


Trying Not To Love You

by WindySuspirations



Series: If I Should Fall [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Now For Something Completely Different, Angst with a Happy Ending, Casual Sex, Confident Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Has Issues, Cullen Smut, Cullen is Not Fumbly, Cullenlingus, F/M, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, Heterosexual Sex, Kinky Cullen Rutherford, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, Massage, POV Cullen Rutherford, POV First Person, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Young Inquisitor (Dragon Age), semi-resolved texual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindySuspirations/pseuds/WindySuspirations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anyway, the point is I like sex. I enjoy it as much as any man. I have it as often as I can get it, although that isn’t as often as I’d like, especially lately. Running the Inquisition’s armies doesn’t leave me with much free time, especially not in the aftermath of an attack by a dark spawn magister and his pet arch demon.</p><p>That’s why I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s the only reason I can think for why she invades my waking thoughts — and my dreams when they are pleasant. I often imagine pushing her up against the nearest wall and plunging into her right there.</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>Or the story of how one quite horny, dirty-minded, slightly twisted, definitely darker Cullen Rutherford unwillingly falls in love with his young, beautiful, and naive Inquisitor, as told by the man himself.</p><p>Now with art!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cullen's been whispering this story to me for a while, and he won't shut up. XD 
> 
> This has not been betaed, so the mistakes are all mine.
> 
> Fair warning: The Cullen in this story is not the fumbling and shy Cullen that we see in the game, at least in the beginning. He is quite a bit dirtier and a tad pervy besides.
> 
> This fic is my attempt at a (hopefully) longer story than any I've written so far. I haven't a clue how long it will be, and I can't promise regular updates because I am slow. 
> 
> I have an idea for where this story is going, but I am open to suggestions, if you guys have any.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are welcome, especially comments! They make my heart happy.

I know people think me a prude, but I haven’t the faintest idea why. Is it because I was a Templar? Ha! If only they knew what life in a Templar barracks was really like.

Anyway, the point is I like sex. I enjoy it as much as any man. I have it as often as I can get it, although that isn’t as often as I’d like. Running the Inquisition’s armies doesn’t leave me with much free time, especially not in the aftermath of an attack by a dark spawn magister and his pet arch demon.

That’s why I can’t stop thinking about _her._ It’s the only reason I can think for why she invades my waking thoughts — and my dreams when they are pleasant. I often imagine pushing her up against the nearest wall and plunging into her right there. I think about how good she would feel wrapped around me, and it’s all I can do not to seek her out and make my fantasy a reality.

But I don’t, because she is the Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor, and for all that, just a young girl, barely out of her teens. And I’m old enough to know better than to think there would ever be a chance for anything between us.

Even were she a little older, or I younger, I would still not pursue her. I am not worthy of her — I’m not the man I’ve always wanted to be. I’ve done things in my life that I am not proud of and failed to act when I should have. No, my purpose here is to atone for my wrongdoings, and that does not include seducing innocents.

Oh, and did I mention that she’s a mage? 

Right now I am leaning against the wall and watching her spar with the soldiers. Holding her staff in a practiced grip, she swings it out in front of her and sends icicles flying before fade-stepping across the training ring. She finishes her attack by lobbing a weak fireball at one recruit. He dodges it but ends up in the dirt flat on his arse.

“Widen your stance, lad,” I yell out. “And keep that shield up. If the Inquisitor were your enemy, you’d be dead!”

The boy sends me a sheepish look and nods as he gets to his feet. “Yes, Commander,” he mumbles.

I nod back and raise a hand to indicate that they should continue. The hapless recruit falls back into position, his feet locked in a wider stance this time, and the Inquisitor prepares to fire another spell at him. She smiles at me before returning her attention to the young recruit.

My heart speeds up, and the muscles in my lower body tighten. Heat rises from my groin, and I’m a little lightheaded of a sudden. I want to stalk right over to her and drag her down with me to the hardened dirt of the practice ring. I want to bury my hands in the soft brown curls of her hair and bury my _cock_ in her.

Maker’s breath. All it takes is one bloody smile from her, and I’m lost.

I close my eyes and shift uncomfortably. My trousers are uncomfortably tight; I need to adjust myself, but I can’t do it here. Maker, I can’t go on like this too much longer.  Sod it. I have to do something about this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Herald’s Rest is loud and raucous when I enter it later that night. The Iron Bull is in his usual spot, his Chargers surrounding him as he regales them with stories of his past exploits with the Ben Hassrath and Sera is already deep in her cups, leaning over the bar and singing out of tune to the music Maryden strums on her lute.

Several of my men are seated at a table near the entrance, playing a game of Wicked Grace. I laugh as they all jump and give me bumbling salutes. I motion for them to continue their game and smile to reassure them.  I don’t often come here for just this reason; I know from experience that it’s never a good thing to have your commanding officer around when you’re having a spot of fun with the other lads.

I head over to the bar and sit down on one of the stools — away from the crazy elf.  I still can’t fathom why the Inquisitor allowed her to join — she’s nothing but trouble, that one. She put bees, of all things, in one of the training dummies — who does that?

“Good to see you, again, Commander,” Cabot greets me. “The usual, I’m guessin’?”

“Yes, thank you,” I say with a nod. As I wait for my ale, I turn round and survey the tavern again. I see several prospects: Flissa, Minaeve, and Lisette are among them.

When Cabot hands me my ale, I stand and walk over to where Lisette leans against the back wall. She’s a Templar and tough enough for the kind of sex I need tonight.

I can’t be gentle — I need to fuck. Hard. Fast.

An image of the Inquisitor bent over my desk; perfect arse thrust in the air, white skin rosy, and cunt dripping comes to mind and my cock twitches.

I bite the inside of my cheek to squelch those unworthy thoughts as I continue toward Lisette,  the right corner of my lips turned up in the half smile that I know drives women crazy.

While I’m not a vain man, I know that I’ve been blessed with good looks. Most of the time, I consider it more of a curse than anything else, but it does help in situations like these. Let’s just say I’ve never had to do too much convincing to get a woman in my bed.

Lisette is clapping to the music and smiling as she watches the dancers. Her color is high; an attractive flush warms the apples of her cheeks, and her blond hair tumbles loose down her back.  I slide in next to her and lean against the wall.

“Hello, Lisette.”

“Hello, Commander.”

I carefully press my side against hers, leisurely taking a sip of my ale. She half turns toward me, but her eyes are still on the dancers.

“I’m not here as your Commander,” I lean in and whisper in her ear. “Tonight, I’m just a man looking for a little…” Her breath hitches as I brush my fingers down from the beating pulse in her throat to the line of her cleavage displayed ever so nicely by her low-cut bodice. I allow my smirk to bloom into a full grin. “…fun. Would you like to come play with me?”

She cocks her head and purses her full red lips. “What did you have in mind?” she asks, her voice breathless and sultry. She brings a hand up to trace the open vee of my shirt before continuing down to caress my stomach.

I raise an eyebrow. “I think you know.”

The hand on my stomach dips lower, and I shiver as she brushes it across me. I’m hard to the point of pain.

“Perhaps you can show me?”

I’m not in the mood for coy games, so I wrap one hand around the back of her neck to hold her head still while my lips crash down on hers. I palm her breasts roughly — like I said, I can’t be gentle.

Her lips open and I slide my tongue into her warm mouth. She tastes of ale and lyrium; the heady combination makes me want to devour her. My hands drift down to cup her arse and lift her against me, desperate to create some friction for my aching cock.

She moans into my mouth, and her arms come up to wrap round my neck as she presses herself even closer. Maker, I have to have her now.

I tear my mouth away from her tempting pucker and growl in her ear “Let’s get out of here.”  

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

My tower is dark save for the lit candle I left on my desk before going down to the tavern.  I take it and motion for Lisette to climb the ladder to my loft.  She hesitates for a moment as if she wants to say something, but chooses to quickly scale the ladder instead.

Good girl.

I follow her up, climbing one-handed, with the other gripping the candle.

“Undress,” I command as I come up behind her and slide my hand over her firm arse.

Lisette turns to give me a smile as she begins to slowly unlace her bodice, letting it slide lower and lower down her voluptuous chest.

On another night, I might have enjoyed her teasing, but I’m in no mood for it tonight. I grab her dress and yank it the rest of the way down. Her breasts fall free.

“No breast band,” I murmur as my hands come up to cup them: they’re full and large, with large pink nipples, stiff in the cool air of my loft. She hisses as I pass a hand over her taut belly and reach to pull off her small clothes. Want coils in my muscles, pulling them taut as the strings on Maryden’s lute. “Get on your knees on the bed,” I rasp.

“Yes, Commander,” she says, swinging her hips as she moves toward the bed. She climbs onto it, turning to smirk at me over her shoulder, tossing her blond curls back.

I come up behind her, one hand working to release my aching cock from its confines while I slide the other between her legs. I smile. She is wet for me, ready to be fucked.

In one smooth move, I am inside her as my hold on her hips to keep them still.

She’s so wet and silky. I can’t help but groan as her walls tighten around me, and just like always, having my cock buried in a warm cunt calms and centers me. For these moments, I can forget about everything. Kinloch and Kirkwall, the breach and Corypheus cease to exist.

I press a hand against her back to urge her lower, and I start to move.  Lisette cants her hips back, impaling herself more deeply on me while her arse grinds against me. She is moaning now, too, and our cries meld with the slapping noises of skin on skin, filling the tower with the urgent sounds of lust.

She starts to come apart under me; she’s trembling and mewling and begging me to fuck her harder.

Well. I do aim to please.

I ram my hips against hers, driving into her until I’m so deep inside her that I feel the head of my cock scraping up against her womb.

“Yes, Cullen!“ she cries out.

Satisfied that she’s taking her pleasure, I let go, lips pulled back over my teeth as I shudder over her, emptying myself into her in a sudden rush.

I collapse on the bed, muscles slack, tension drained away, and utterly exhausted.  All I want now is to sleep, but I’m not such boor that I forget about the woman whose body has provided me this glorious surcease, this window of well-being.

Lisette is still kneeling on the bed beside me. She is braiding her hair into one long plait pulled over one shoulder. When I touch her thigh, she looks up from her work and smiles at me, green eyes soft and sparkling in the moonlight slipping through the gap in my roof.

“Thank you, love,” I say, words slow and slurred before sleep claims me.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I breeze into the War Room the next morning and take my place between Leliana and Josephine.

Leliana arches a brow at me, and I groan under my breath. That woman knows about everything — there’s no such thing as a secret with her.

“You’re looking particularly well this morning, Commander,” she says, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

I page through my paperwork and lean over to adjust a marker on the War Table. I choose not to take the bait.

“Thank you, Leliana. I feel quite well today,” I reply and nod in her direction.

“Indeed,” says Josephine as she scribbles on her tablet. “That’s fortunate because I have to bring up something that you will not like.”

I raise an eyebrow at that. “Oh?”  I hope it’s nothing to do with Orlesians or Orlais. Their Game and their bloody masks — I fucking _hate_ Orlais.

She smiles at me and pats my arm. “We’ll discuss it after the Inquisitor arrives.”

“Where is she?”

Just then, the War Room doors open and the Inquisitor walks in. She nods at the ladies but does not so much as throw me a glance. I frown in puzzlement. She takes her position across the War Table but continues to keep her eyes averted.

The fall of her burnished brown locks covers her face, and I want to brush them aside so that I can see her clearly.  Her shoulders are hunched forward as if she is carrying a great weight on them, and I notice the tremor in her hands before she tightly grips the edges of the War Table.

“Inquisitor, is there something the matter?” I ask softly.  I wonder if perhaps the responsibility of being the Inquisitor is too much for such young shoulders to bear.

When she looks up, her eyes are liquid pools of blue, shining with unshed tears.  A vice begins to tighten round my chest, constricting my breath, and any sense of well-being left over from last night evaporates.

“Inquisitor!” Josephine cries out, moving quickly around the table to put an arm around the Inquisitor’s shoulders.  

To my horror, at Josephine’s comforting touch, the Inquisitor starts crying in earnest, huge racking sobs that shake her slim frame from head to toe.  Josephine tightens her arm around her and moves them to the settee on the left side of the room, gently sitting the girl down and murmuring softly to her.

Maker’s breath, what is going on here?

I am completely out of my depth, and I know it, so I still the impulse to come up on the Inquisitor's other side and give her a hug of my own. I settle for pulling out a handkerchief from my pocket and handing it to Leliana, who is moving to join the other women.

“Sshh, sshh,  ma petite, “ Leliana coos to the sobbing girl. “Come, Josie, let’s get her back to her rooms. ” 

Josephine nods her head, and both women gather the girl between them before moving toward the exit. The Antivan turns to look at me with a helpless shrug before quitting the room with her charge.

I remain where I am, thoughts whirling in my head. A headache starts to pulse above my left eyebrow, setting up to pound my brains to tiny bits

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cullen faces some uncomfortable facts and has a chat with the Inquisitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will wonders never cease? Already another chapter posted from me! 
> 
> Thanks for the comments, criticisms, and kudos. All are appreciated! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this update!

“You need to speak with the Inquisitor,” Leliana announces as she walks into my office.

I put down the guard shift roster I am working on and sigh. Although I knew this was coming, it still doesn’t make it an easier to hear. “Tell me what’s happened and what I can do to help.”

“The Inquisitor, Evelyn, fancies herself in love with you.”

Her words hit me like a crossbow bolt to the gut.  I sit slack-jawed for a moment before stumbling out “What?”

“You heard me,” she pauses to give me an arch look before continuing. “She also saw you with Lisette last night.”

I snort and wave away the last part of her statement as I stand and come round my desk.  I cross my arms over my chest and glare at her.

“But that’s ridiculous. You must be mistaken.”

“I’m afraid I’m not.  As ridiculous as it may seem to you, it’s true, and I need you to talk to her.”

I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. For the love of Andraste! It’s bad enough that I can barely control myself around her.  And now, I am supposed to talk to her? Alone?  Un-fucking-believable.

The thought of confronting the Inquisitor in her chambers, where I could lay her down upon her bed and strip her of her clothing piece by piece, kissing every inch of skin as I revealed it — is enough to undo the last of the relief Lisette granted me last night.

All of that tension flows back into my muscles, coiling in my groin. I close my eyes for a moment, willing my growing erection to subside. As surreptitiously as I dare, I walk back behind my desk and resume my seat.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps you can stop being so foolish and admit that you have feelings for her, too. I’ve seen the way you look at her…among other things.”  She lowers her gaze deliberately.

My face flushes crimson, and I feel like a schoolboy caught doing something he oughtn’t all over again. “In this, you are quite mistaken, Leliana,” I tell her, shooting her what I hope is a quelling glance.“What you see is mere lust.  Surely you’re familiar with this?”

I know I am an arse, but both my patience and my temper are frayed to the bone.  The headache that started earlier in the War Room is now shooting lightning bolts of pain through my skull. I raise a hand to my left brow and press my fingers to it, in the hopes of staving off some of the pain.

Leliana merely gives me the Look, the one that says _you can’t hide anything from me, so I don’t see why you’re even trying._

“Keep telling yourself that, and maybe one day you’ll believe it. Regardless, you need to talk to her, reassure her that you don’t hate her.”

“Hate her?” I splutter. “I-I don’t hate her. By the Maker, I —” I stop myself from saying too much.

But the Nightingale spears me with her all-seeing blue eyes. “Just talk to her, Commander.” She turns toward the door, reaching for the handle before looking back at me. “And do try to keep your peccadillos more…private in the future, hmm?”

She’s gone before I can think of with a suitable response. Damn and blast that woman! I cradle my aching head in my hands and wonder how I’m to survive serving with her and the other two equally smart and vexing females in my life.

.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I stand before the Inquisitor’s door wondering for the thousandth time if I am making a mistake. Despite Leliana’s urgings, surely it’s better just to leave things be. She’ll get over her crush all the sooner if I keep my distance, right?

It isn’t right that a woman like her should spend one moment crying over me. And if she thinks I hate her, of all the nonsense, then I need to put a stop to it at once.

I raise my fist and knock on her door.

“Come in,” her voice is raspy from her crying but strong. My shoulders relax a little, and I open the door.

She’s sitting cross-legged in the center of her large bed when I enter, papers scattered across her quilted duvet.  The light pouring through the balcony doors picks up the red and gold highlights in her hair, and she looks so heartachingly young that I come to an abrupt halt just inside the threshold.

“Yes, Commander?” Her voice is carefully neutral, but there’s a tremor in the hand that reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

I sigh and take a seat on the couch. I want to sit on the bed beside her, but that wouldn’t be wise.

“Inquisitor,” I begin, but before I can say anything else, she jumps to her feet and comes to stand before me.

“Before you say anything, I want to apologize for my outburst in the War Room. It was unprofessional of me, and it won’t happen again.”

Wh-what? I stare at her, speechless for a few seconds. I run my hand through my hair and try again.

“You have nothing to apologize for, my lady. “ I pause to gather my thoughts. “I-I want you to know that there — there are reasons why I can’t reciprocate your feelings, but it’s nothing to do with you and _everything_ to do with me.”

Maker, that sounds pathetic even to my ears, but I’m no poet and certainly no diplomat. But it’s the best I can offer her, and I hope she sees that.

She’s frowning, and she’s got this cute little wrinkle on the bridge of her nose that makes me want to kiss it every time I see it.

“What do you mean?”

_Okay, Rutherford, you have to do better. Do. Not. Fuck. This. Up._

“For one thing, I am too old for you. You should be with someone closer to your age,” I say the words even though it’s by far the weakest excuse I can give her.

She raises one perfect eyebrow. 

“Really, Cullen? Just tell me you’re not attracted to me and have done already.” Flipping her hair, she turns away from me and pads back to her bed. She perches on the edge and regards me with serious blue eyes. “Despite my outburst this morning, I am a big girl, and I can handle it.”

Void take it!  Not attracted to her? Would that were the case! I rise from my seat and begin pacing the floor in front of her. Her scent and the way the tight leather jerkin she’s wearing accentuates her chest is making me forget all of the reasons why she and I are a bad idea.

I sigh and press steepled fingers to my brow. What words are adequate to convey to her that she is so beyond a man like me that even thinking about a relationship between us makes no sense? What I wouldn’t give for Dorian’s or Josephine’s glibness right now!

“For another, I’m just not the kind of man you should set your sights on," I say with the elan of a blighted bull blundering his way through an Orlesian tea shop.

She crosses her legs, and the corners of her lips twitch upward. “Don’t you think you should let me decide that for myself?”  Maker’s breath!  When did she get so sassy? It causes an answering spark in my blood. 

“Are you going to question everything I tell you?” My patience, shortened, to begin with, is quickly heading toward zero. I have to get out of here before I do something we’ll both regret.

She purses her rosy lips, lips I want very much to kiss over and over again until neither of us can breathe. “Until you start making sense, yes.”

Fuck.

“How much do you know about Templars?” I say, stopping to stand in front of her and locking my eyes on hers.

“Well,” she looks away from me and runs her fingers over the soft fabric of her duvet. “We had Templars at Ostwick, of course. Most of them were kind to us mages. They wore heavy armor and marched around a lot. What is it that I am supposed to know?”

I take a deep breath. This is the part I hoped that I would never have to reveal to her.  Foolish, I know, considering my withdrawal symptoms, but perhaps I am a little vain, after all. I don’t enjoy appearing weak before anyone, much less _her_.

“When a Templar takes his vows, he is given his first philter of lyrium. Lyrium is what grants us our powers, but it enslaves us as well.” I search her expression for signs of derision before continuing. “ It’s a very addictive drug — those who are cut off die, while others go mad.”

She’s staring at me now, confused eyes boring into mine. “So you’re addicted to lyrium? We’ve plenty for the Templars here…”

“I no longer take it,” I cut her off. “When I left the Order, I vowed that I would no longer be bound to that life, and that meant being free of lyrium, as well.”

“But you said…it could kill you!” She rises from the bed and walks over to place a hand on my chest. All of the blood in my body surges to meet her touch, and I feel lightheaded.

“It hasn’t yet," I say, looking down at her and trying to suppress the urge to take her arm and pull her into a crushing embrace. To bury my face in the fall of her hair, and to feel the delicious heat of her body flush with mine.

“How long?” Maker, the concern in her voice makes my heart swell with an emotion I can’t — will not name.

“It’s been months now. Since before I arrived in Haven.”

A heartbeat passes before she drops her hand and backs away and I almost grab her to prevent her from pulling away. My chest already aches for want of her touch. Damn it all! How much is one man expected to endure before he goes mad?

“I’m glad you told me. I think that what you’re doing is very brave.”  She thinks me brave? Well done, Rutherford! It seems you’ve but given her more reasons to moon after you.

“Thank you. But the Inquisition comes first. I’ve asked Cassandra to…watch me. If I should become unable to lead, she’s to relieve me of my command and find a replacement immediately.”

“Are you in pain?” For fuck’s sake, now you’ve gone and worried her!  Fix it, you blighted clod!

“Frequently, but I can endure it.” I smile to reassure her. “Naught but headaches, some muscle and joint pain,” I say.  That’s the truth more or less. She doesn’t need to know that some days I can barely get out of bed.

“So because you’re a lyrium addict and in withdrawal, you can’t pursue a relationship with me?”

“I’m not fit to be in a relationship with anyone,” I correct her. “It’s best that I focus on my work.”

She eyes me from under the thick fan of her lashes. “Then you’re not with Lisette?”

I give a short laugh. “Hardly.”

Her mouth twists in a faint grimace. “But you…you were with her last night.”

Despite myself, I find my cheeks heating slightly. So Leliana was right on both counts, damn her.

“Yes, and that, my dear Inquisitor, is none of your business.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to my duties.”

She opens her mouth then closes it and nods her head as I turn to leave. “Fine, but don’t think that this is the end of it.”

I sigh and turn back to shake my head at her, my lips turned up in a wry grin. “Always have to have the last word, do you, Inquisitor?”

“Only with men who are too stubborn for their own good,” she quips and waves me off.  “Run along now, Commander. Duty calls!”

I look back at her one last time before leaving the room, wondering why this entire conversation didn’t end up the way I’d intended when I knocked on her door.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cullen learns how daring the Inquisitor can be, in which some more smut happens, and in which Cullen is really, really stupid.
> 
> And also, shirtless Cullen, because shirtless Cullen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the comments and kudos. They make me go squee — especially comments!
> 
> I'm a little nervous about posting this chapter. It didn't turn out quite how I'd planned it because Cullen must have his way.
> 
> Not sure you're going to like where I went with this. Please let me know what you think and if you have any ideas of how you want things to proceed from here. I can't promise that the Cullen in my head won't veto them, but you're welcome to put them forth. XD
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy. More will be forthcoming, be assured. Comments, criticisms and kudos are all welcomed!

“Commander!”

I struggle not to moan as the messenger’s voice calling from downstairs echoes in my aching head.

“What is it?” I respond, sitting up in bed and wincing, the damp cloth I’d draped across my brow falling into my lap. I pick it up and throw it on my bedside table.

“Urgent meeting in the War Room, Commander. You’re to come at once, Ser. Inquisitor’s orders.”

Fuck me. It’s all I need right now. I drag a hand across my face and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I know I shouldn’t complain: I volunteered for this job, didn’t I? But Maker, some days are just….

The early afternoon light streaming through the hole in my roof tells me that it’s been a couple of hours since I lay down. I grimace. I had to — else risk losing what little food I’d managed to eat all over the training grounds. I hardly feel better for it, but, there’s no help for that, is there?  “Tell the Inquisitor that I’m on my way.”

“Yes, Ser.”

I get up and stumble over to my shaving mirror hanging above my wash basin and squint at my reflection. Remarkably, my hair is still in place, more or less, but I am even paler than I normally am, and the dark circles under my eyes make me look like I’ve gone a few rounds with the Iron Bull and lost.

I frown. The Inquisitor will worry when she sees the state I'm in. I hate making her worry.  She’ll get that concerned look on her face, the one that makes her eyes grow large as saucers and makes me want to take her in my arms and kiss her until I drive the worry from her mind.

Maker’s breath, I’m hopeless.

I push those thoughts from my mind and put my armor back on before heading out through the door that opens onto the bridge leading to Solas’ rotunda.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When I arrive at the War Table, the ladies are already present; Leliana and Josephine are in their usual spots and the Inquisitor is standing across from them and peering down at the map.

She looks up when she hears me enter and her eyes go wide at my appearance, as I’d known they would.  She turns toward me and catches my arm before I can make my way round the table to stand in between the Ambassador and Nightingale.

I draw my brows down and give her my sternest look. Maybe I can bluster my way through this

“Cullen!” The way she says my name tightens my chest and my breath catches.

“Is there something the matter, Inquisitor?” Where in the Void did that soft and husky tone come from?  Where did my bluster go?

“Are you all right? You look terrible, Commander.”  

“I’ve a headache is all, my lady. I am fine.”

Her eyes narrow and I can tell she’s not convinced, but she lets go of my arm and allows me to move past her to join the other advisors on the opposite side of the War Table.

Leliana, damn her, is smirking at me and she and Josephine share a look between them that doesn’t bode well for me. I feel a bit like I did when my sisters used to gang up on me. Andraste preserve me from the whims of women!

“So?” I say, raising my brows and crossing my arms over my chest. “What’s happened?”

“The Wardens are using blood magic to summon demons,” the Inquisitor says without preamble.

“Um, can you repeat what you just said?” I ask, scratching behind one ear. “My headache must be affecting my hearing because I thought I heard you say that the Wardens are using blood magic to summon demons.”

“Yes,” she confirms, a hard expression coming over her face. “That is exactly what I said."

A wave of dizziness nearly overcomes me; the War Room fades away, and I’m there —in that dark, dank hallway trapped by bars of iridescent blue light. There is blood on the floor and a woman’s sibilant voice whispers in my ear “Let go, my Templar, just let go, and you will have what you’ve always wanted…”

I shake my head to clear it, wincing at the avalanche of pain it sets off. The Inquisitor eyes me with renewed concern, but I ignore it. Blood magic. Why did it always have to come down to fucking blood magic? 

“Here is Hawke’s report.” Leliana hands me the scroll in her hand before continuing. “They gather at Adamant Fortress in the Western Approach — my scouts confirm this.”

I scan the report while Leliana and Josephine discuss how our allies might best help us deal with this dire situation.

I can’t bloody believe what I am reading. It makes me ill: men and women sacrificing themselves to summon sodding demons.   And it’s the Void-taken Wardens! I thought they were immune from this sort of thing.

“Summon Blackwall. I want to hear what he has to say about this.”

“Why?” the Inquisitor asks, frowning at me.

I drop the scroll on the table and lean forward, one hand gripping the edge while I use the other to massage the spot above my left eyebrow that feels like someone is driving a very large spike through it.

“Why do you think?” My voice is sharper than I intend, but Maker, my patience is at its limit just now.

“You’ve Hawke’s report there, and Stroud confirms that the Warden-Commander has cut off all lines of communication…”

“I just want to…”

“You can’t seriously believe that…”

“Damn it, Evelyn, I just want to get his input!”

The room falls silent as three pairs of eyes stare at me in shock. It’s the first time I’ve ever called the Inquisitor by her given name,  and only the second time that I’ve raised my voice to her — the first being after she freed the mages and offered them an alliance.

I swallow and look away. “Forgive me,” I say quietly. “This headache — it’s…it doesn’t matter.” I sigh and pass a hand over my face. “Just send Blackwall to my office right away, please.”

I walk out of the War Room, ignoring the plea in the Inquisitor’s blue eyes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I lower myself into my chair, sighing with pleasure to finally be sitting on something other than a horse.

The trip back to Skyhold from Adamant took far longer than I’d anticipated. My men and I stayed behind to arrest blood mage stragglers and round up Master Erimond while the Inquisitor journeyed ahead with her party.

Now, weeks later, I’m finally home, weary and sore, but glad to be back in my little tower. I eye my desk and groan when I see how much paperwork has piled up in my absence. It will surely take me the better part of a fortnight to wade through it all.

But that’s for another day. For now, I’m going to…

A knock on the door surprises me. It’s late, and I’m not expecting anyone.  I’m shirtless with a towel hanging round my neck, fresh from the bath.

“Enter!” I call, sighing in exasperation. If it’s that scout, Jim, I swear I’ll…

The door swings open and in walks the Inquisitor, and Maker’s breath, she’s wearing, well, truth be told, she isn’t wearing much at all.

She sashays into my office, her long legs bare to her thighs, the fabric of whatever the bloody Void she’s wearing flowing behind her.

“Welcome home, Commander,” she says as she comes round my desk and perches on its edge beside my chair, crossing her legs.

I swallow as she leans forward, her perfect breasts nearly falling out of the low cut neckline of her gown. My cock takes notice of this situation, despite my tiredness.

“What are you doing here at this hour, Inquisitor?” I manage to ask, trying to keep my eyes from straying down to all that oh-so-tempting skin on display.  Although I try to appear stern, I can’t help but think that the effect is rather lost with me bare-chested and my hair a mop of wet curls upon my head.

It seems the Inquisitor agrees with this assessment because she giggles — _giggles_ at me. “Why, Cullen, I’ve come to give you a present.” She uncrosses her legs and spreads them apart, and fuck; she isn’t wearing any small clothes — her cunt is bare to my gaze, its soft, pink lips glistening with moisture and begging for my tongue.

I grip the arms of my chair to keep from pulling her into my lap and savaging her mouth in a bruising kiss.

“You shouldn’t be here…not at this hour and not dressed like _that_.” I wave an arm to indicate her ridiculously sexy attire.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Her luscious red lips form a pout, and that damned wrinkle appears on her nose again.  Maker, how I want to strip those scraps off her body, lay her out on my desk, and bury my face between her legs. I want to hear what her voice sounds like, calling out my name in ecstasy.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Inquisitor,” I hiss as she raises one foot and nudges my thighs apart with it. I shiver as her toes brush against me.

“Evelyn,” she says, brushing her toes against my erection again and I nearly groan at the sensation of it.

“What?”

“If you’re going to get all growly and threatening with me, you might as well use my given name.”

I take a deep breath and carefully pluck her foot away from me. “Evelyn, then,” I say. “You should leave now before…”

“Before what?” she interrupts me. “Before you have to admit that you’re as attracted to me as I am to you?”

Maker, this torture cannot be borne! I rise to my feet, and I am on her in an instant. I hear her breath rush out of her as I pin her to my desk with my weight and stare down at her. All my carefully stacked piles of reports and requisitions scatter to the floor, but I can’t care about that right now.

“Is this what you want, sweet Evelyn?” I whisper, my lips close to her ear as I press my cock against her, letting her feel how hard I am — how hard she’s made me. She gasps and I chuckle. “Answer me. Is this” I punctuate my words with hard thrusts of my hips. “What” hip thrust “you” hip thrust “want?”

Her gaze doesn’t flinch away from mine. “Yes,” she says, damn her. “Yes, I want this. I want you.”

I can’t hold back any longer. I drop my head and kiss her — it’s not a gentle kiss as I pour my longing into the gesture. I lick the seam of her lips with my tongue, requesting admittance, and she parts them for me.

As I slip my tongue into her mouth, I can’t help the moan that rises from me. Fuck, she tastes sweeter than I ever dreamed she would — of vanilla and spice — like the treats my father used to bring home from the summer fair back home — only infinitely more delicious.

I raise my hand from beside her head and drag it between our bodies, moving down to the short hem of her gown. I snake it underneath and rub my fingers against her soaking wet quim, gently parting her lips to find her pearl.

I smile as she gasps and bucks against me. “Oh, Cullen, please,” she cries out. And I have to — I have to taste her cream.  I get up, and her breath hitches as I part her legs wide. “Cullen, wh-what are you doing?”

“You’ll love this, sweetling.” Before she can say anything else, or I come to my senses, I drop to my knees on the floor beside my desk and put my face between her legs.  I start with gentle licks and kisses along her outer lips, smooth and denuded of hair.

“Oh!” She shudders above me, her breathing coming in stutters as I continue inexorably toward my goal. I start nibbling in between licks and kisses as I progress from her inner lips to the glistening nub just begging for attention — but I stop just short of it, moving back toward her outer lips again.

Maker, if I thought her mouth tasted divine, her cunt tastes like the purest sweets Andraste serves, herself, in the Golden City. She mewls in protest, and I grin against her. Oh, my dear Lady Trevelyan, I’ll see you come apart round my ears, this I promise you.

“Maker, Cullen!” Her hips are bucking against me, and I have to hold them still as I finally plunge my tongue into her core. I undulate my tongue over that little, swollen nub. Her moans and mewls are almost constant now, and her hands have come down to grip my head, spasming against my skull.

“Yes, my darling Evelyn,” I whisper against her. “Maker, I love the way you sound when I’ve got my mouth full of you.” I run the tip of my tongue over her sensitive bundle of nerves, and she bucks more strongly against me. She’s close; I can feel it in the way she grips my hair and in the shuddering movements of her hips.

I flick my tongue to and fro over her clit, again and again, drawing out more cries and gasps from the woman on my desk.

“Cul-lllennnn,” she cries as she comes undone. I stay where I am until the shudders stop, then I get to my feet, my knees protesting their prolonged position upon the hard stone floor.

I’m aware of my cock, stiff and aching, as it pushes against the thin, soft cloth of my trousers. It demands release, and there she is, lying on my desk for the taking. So why don’t I just do it? Drop my trousers and sheath myself in her?

I close my eyes and grit my teeth, willing my throbbing need to subside. Because damn it, I am trying to become a better man, for all that I’ve just proved that I’ve a long, long way to go on that account.

“Cullen?” She looks up at me, questions in her big blue eyes, the little wrinkle back on her nose. I lean down and gently kiss it because I can’t help myself just now.

“You should go, sweetling,” I say, turning to fall into my chair with a gusty sigh.

“B-but why? What about…” She sits up, and she looks so damn young that I want to protect her with everything I am and ravish her at the same time.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and pray to Andraste for the strength and patience I need to get her safely away before I take any more of her innocence away.

“Don’t worry about me,” I say, running my hands through my hair. “It’s late, and you should be in bed…we both should be.”

She grins at that. “Then let’s go to bed together,” she says and plops into my lap, her arms twining round my neck.

“No.”  I push her off my lap, get to my feet, and glare down at her sternly. “You need to leave. Now.”

“But…” Her face starts to crumple, and I die a little inside, but I force myself to continue.

“This changes nothing,” I growl, sweeping my arm toward the mess on my desk. “I am still the wrong fucking man for you. Now get out.”

 “You bastard,” she whispers as tears run silently down her pale cheeks. There are no histrionics from her this time and, oddly, her stillness makes my heart ache more.

I look away from her stricken features, staring at the messy piles of reports and requisitions on my desk. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

 After the door closes behind her with a silent click, I collapse into my chair and hang my head, feeling a hundred years older than I am.

“What have I done?” I say to my empty office. “What have I done?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cullen gets jealous and begins to realize that his heart may no longer be his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short fluffier chapter for your reading pleasure.
> 
> And its got Jealous Cullen. ;)
> 
> As always, thank you for the kudos and the comments. I love them!

I sit at a table in the back of the Herald’s Rest, a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass before me while I watch the Inquisitor dance with the Orlesian dance instructor Josephine hired to teach us how not to step on each other’s feet at the Winter Palace next month.

Her face is flushed, whether with exertion from the lively reel, enjoyment of her dance partner’s company, or both, I can’t tell. All I know is that the sight makes my jaw clench and my gut twist into knots.

I pour another shot of the liquor into my glass and down it.

“Drinking yourself into oblivion isn’t gonna help you, Curly,”

I look up to find Varric sitting across from me. I regard him from beneath hooded eyes. “Don’t recall asking for your opinion, Dwarf,” I say.

“No, but I’m giving it to you anyway — for your own good.” He tilts his head in the direction of the dancers. “And her’s too. Look,” he says, grabbing a glass and pouring himself a drink. “I don’t know what’s happened between the two of you, but it’s obvious that you both are hurting.”

I sigh, pouring another shot into my glass. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so shut it,” I growl. The last thing I need tonight is a lecture from the beardless dwarf.

Varric shakes his head. “Why are you letting her dance with that Orlesian jack-ass?”

I shrug, looking down at my hands. “She can dance with anyone she wishes to. I have no hold over her.”

“Really?  Then why have you been glaring at the pair of them all night?”

“Oi, Cully-Wully, Quizzy’s leavin’ with that fancy-pants bloke!” Sera’s voice suddenly booms down from the floor above. My cheeks heat and I could cheerfully murder that elf, but her words make me look up in time to see Evelyn slipping through the door with that popinjay. I growl from low in my chest. It takes all my willpower not to go after her and demand that she get away from him; that she’s _mine._

But she’s not, and I’ve no right.

Varric raises a brow. “Come on man, go after her!”

I don’t know what comes over me at that moment; maybe it’s the drinks I’ve had, maybe it’s the lyrium withdrawal,  or maybe its loneliness, but I rise to my feet and stalk out of the tavern to a chorus of “attaboys” from the elf and dwarf.

Once outside, I pause to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the courtyard. As I’m standing there, I hear the sounds of scuffling coming from the area between the tavern and the smithy that Cassandra’s claimed for her training dummies.

“I said no, Jean-Luc!” Evelyn’s voice along with the sounds of electricity buzzing and a loud slap carry in the stillness of the night.

My jealousy instantly shifts to pure rage as I rush toward the noises. If that arsehole has harmed one hair on Evelyn’s head, I’ll…

When I get there, the Orlesian fop is on the ground with his arse in the mud, pants down round his ankles and skinny knees pointing skyward, fish-belly pale in the moonlight. He’s holding his cheek with one hand, red-faced, while the other is covering his crotch. The Inquisitor stands over him, glaring at him indignantly, electricity arcing between her fingers.

Relief flows through me, turning me giddy. I throw my head back and laugh. As if the _Inquisitor_ needs my protection. “Serves you right, mate,” I say to the embarrassed man on the ground.

“Cullen?” Evelyn stares at me. “What are you doing here?”

I scratch the back of my head. “I, uh…I thought you needed some help…but it seems you have the situation well in hand,” I say lamely.

Evelyn continues to look at me, her blue eyes sparkling with questions and a soft light that warms my chest.

“Er, would you like me to escort you to your chambers, Inquisitor?”

She smiles at me, her teeth flashing white in the darkness. “Why, yes I would, thank you, Commander.”

I offer her my elbow, which she takes, and we leave the popinjay to pull up his pants and nurse his bruised cheek.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

We walk in companionable silence across the courtyard and through the main hall. When we reach the door to her chambers, I halt and bow low from the waist.

“Here we are, my lady,” I say, straightening and giving her what I hope is a friendly smile.

She looks up at me, and for a moment I catch the naked longing in her eyes. My chest tightens and I find that I can’t breathe, but then it’s gone, and in its place is the carefully neutral expression that she’s worn ever since that night in my tower.

“Thank you for walking me back, Commander,” she says.

“I’m always here for you, sweetling. Anything you need.”

She leans in closer, and I follow automatically, lowering my head toward hers. “Anything?” she whispers, her lips so close to mine that I can almost taste her vanilla and spice flavor.

“Anything,” I whisper back and close the remaining distance between us, capturing her mouth with mine.  Her arms come round my neck, and I grip the sides of her face with my hands as her lips part to admit my tongue. I deepen the kiss, snaking a hand under the fall of her hair to grasp her neck. We stand there in front of her door for several long moments, just tasting each other. Then, I brush my lips across hers for a final time and step back.

“It’s late, sweetheart,” I say. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

She looks like she wants to argue, but she merely stands on tiptoe to give me one final kiss before opening her door. “Good night, Commander,” she says, turning to give me one last look before closing the door behind her.

Maker’s breath. I think I’m fucked.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The day of the ball at Halamshiral arrives far too soon for my liking. I find myself trussed up a dress uniform jacket that’s much too tight and sandwiched in between Blackwall and Sera in one of the carriages that are taking us to the event. Evelyn, Dorian, and Cassandra sat across from us, happily chatting away.

“I don’t want to hear another word about peaches,.You hear me?” Blackwall grumbles while leaning forward to glare round me at Sera.

Peaches, is it? Raising one eyebrow, I lean back to let the two companions converse, but Sera nudges me hard in the ribs and whines “Oi, Cully, your shoulders are too big — scoot over!”

I roll my eyes and sigh, trying to shift, so the elf has more room, but my shoulder brushes Blackwall’s. I mutter an apology to the other man and groan. It’s going to be a long ride to Val Royeaux.

I catch Evelyn giving me an amused look. “What?” I huff.

“You look very handsome tonight, Commander. Doesn’t he, Dorian?”

The other mage nods his head in assent. “Indeed he does. The color red becomes you, Commander.”

I shrug, earning a dirty look from Sera who promptly leans across my lap to make a lewd gesture with her mouth and fingers at Blackwall. The Warden turns his head away to stare at the scenery passing outside the carriage window.

“Um, thank you,” I say to Dorian,  tugging at my collar. “But I should have had the jacket let out a little.”

“Oh, but it looks smashing on you!”

I peer at Dorian curiously. Is he having a go at me? I can never tell. “As you say,” I respond.

“And, darling, I must say you look ravishing, as well, wouldn’t you agree, Commander?”

I look over Evelyn in her midnight blue split skirt ensemble that Vivienne and Josephine put together for her. It hugs her every curve in ways that do _things_ to me.

“Quite,” I agree.  Is it wrong of me that I want to strip her out of that outfit, bury my face twixt her legs and taste her again? The two return to their conversation and I am left with my own thoughts once again.

Folding my arms over my chest, I lean my head against the back of the carriage seat and close my eyes. I wonder if I can nap until we get there. I can already feel a headache starting above my left eyebrow, and a little sleep would help, especially because I’ve been getting so bloody little of it lately.

Whispered giggles pull me out of my half-sleep an hour or so later. I crack open one eye and look across the carriage at Dorian and Evelyn. The two mages have their heads together and are quietly talking and laughing together, while Cassandra has her nose buried deep in another of Varric’s smutty serials.

I consider the two of them together.Dorian is lithe and handsome, with an engaging smile and plenty of charm. He comes from a noble house, albeit Tevinter, but still, the man has everything that I lack. He is also, like her, a mage.

As I watch Dorian clasp one of her hands in his and draw it to his lips, it occurs to me that he would be the perfect man for her — and yet, the very idea of her with anyone else makes me want to hurt somebody. I’m suddenly aware that my hands have balled into fists and I have to relax them forcibly.

_She isn’t yours, Rutherford. You can never have a woman like her, and you know it._

I close my eyes and try again to find rest, but thoughts of Evelyn and Dorian spiral out of control in my mind, making my headache worse. Andraste give me the strength to make it through the night.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I spot the Inquisitor standing alone at the balcony railing, and I make my way to her. It’s been a long and dangerous night. The sight of her, hale and whole drains the tension from my body, and I sigh. Thank the Maker she is all right.

“There you are,” I call out. “Everyone’s…” (I’ve) “… been looking for you.”

She turns to me as I join her at the railing and gives me a gentle smile, but her eyes are haunted.

“Are you all right?”

“Better now,” she says, reaching out to touch my bicep. The feel of her fingers makes my heart race, and I have to take a breath to slow my speeding pulse.

I cover her hand with my own. “I know it’s foolish, but I was worried for you tonight.”

“Cullen.”

I don’t think that I’ll ever tire of her voice saying my name. I want to kiss her so badly, but I contain the desire, instead bowing low and offering my hand.

“May I have this dance, my lady?”

The ebullient smile she gives me is all the reward I need. I know I am grinning like a fool, but I don’t care, and as she places her hand in mine, I lead her away from the railing to the center of the balcony.

“But I thought you didn’t dance,” she says as we slowly begin to dance.

“For you, I’ll try.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I couldn't resist adding just one scene from the game in. It's one of my favorites...makes me feel like a princess!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cullen gets some well-deserved pampering, gets some, and gets shut out, in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter has a little bit of everything in it. It's got fluff, it's got Cullen-smut, and it's got angst, too, so buckle your seatbelts and get ready for a ride!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has commented and left kudos so far. Your encouragement goes a long way toward making me want to write more.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Maker, I don’t think I can bear this pain any longer.

The bright sunlight coming through the hole in my ceiling and dappling the wooden floor of my loft bedroom makes me squint as I open my eyes.  I must be close to nine in the morning — I should have been up and out of bed hours ago.

I try to lift my head off my pillow, but the pain from my days-old migraine lances the left side of my head and slams me back down. My vision blurs and for a second, I think I am going to pass out like I did earlier.

Throwing a forearm over my eyes to block out that painful light, I groan. I reach blindly for the rag I’ve got soaking in tepid water on my bedside table and grit through the pain as I squeeze the excess water out before laying it on my forehead.  I sigh as the cool wet of the cloth takes some of the heat from my brow.

I need to speak with Cassandra. As soon as I can lift my head from my pillow without passing out from the pain, I’ll hobble over to her rooms above the smithy and ask her to replace me as Commander.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As it turns out, I am in no condition to leave my tower. I have managed to pull on a pair of pants and a loose shirt, and stumble down the ladder to my office — but now I am sitting on the edge of my desk unable to move any further.

I have sent a messenger to fetch Cassandra. I think my appearance scared the poor lad. Thank the Maker the Inquisitor is away in the Emerald Graves. I can’t bear even the thought of her seeing me like this.

Cassandra doesn’t bother knocking; just comes right in, and when she sees me, she rushes over and tips my chin up to look at my face. I groan as a fresh stab of pain hits the left side of my head.

“Commander…Cullen…how long have you been like this?” Her voice is full of concern, and I clench my jaw. I don’t deserve her solicitude.

I pull away from her fingers and drop my head to spare the strain on my sore neck. “Long enough,” I grit out and clear my throat before continuing. “I need you to find a replacement for me — or step up yourself — you’re capable.”

Cassandra sighs. “Why?”

“Can you honestly look at me — see the condition I am in — and ask me that?”

“You just need a few days’ rest,” she replies. “Halamshiral was hard for you. I saw how much energy it drained from you when you hadn’t much to spare already.”

I cover my eyes with my hand and hiss as pain travels up my spine and radiates across my back. “I am long past exhausted, Cassandra. I’m no good for the Inquisition as I currently am…it’s relentless…I can’t...”

“You can’t what?” The Inquisitor’s voice startles me, and I nearly fall off my desk. So caught up am I in my misery, I do not hear her enter.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into him. He won’t listen to me.” Cassandra says in a wry voice.

“Cullen?” Evelyn’s voice, so soft and gentle, makes me want to collapse at her feet in supplication. “What is going on? Maker, you look terrible! Are you ill?”

Her soft hands cup my face and gently lift it toward her. My vision swims for a moment before I can focus my eyes on her face, and she is so beautiful that I want to lean in and kiss her. I would have, too, were I in better condition. As it is, I allow her to draw me in her arms and cradle my aching head between her neck and shoulder, too weak to protest.

“Is it the lyrium?” she asks, carding her fingers through my curls.

“He told you that he’s stopped taking lyrium?” Cassandra questions.

“Yes,” Evelyn confirms. “And I think he’s very brave.” Her voice is defensive as if she expects to have to argue the point. Headache throbbing, I am too out of it to follow the rest of the conversation. All I am aware of is Evelyn’s soft fingers running through my hair and the way she smells of embrium and felandaris.

“Tha’ feels nice,” I rasp.

“Can you walk?” She asks.

“I don’ know,” I slur. “Why? Can’ we jus’ stay right here…like this?” I know I am making little sense, but her fingers in my hair are soothing me like nothing else can.  I nuzzle against her neck, sinking into her warmth.

“I am going to take you to my quarters, Commander, where you will stay in bed until I say different.”

Despite my pain, I lift my head to smirk at her. “If y’wan’ me in yer bed, y’jus’ve to ask, m’lady.” Maker, did I just say that? I think I did. Bloody migraine’s made me lose my mind.

She chuckles a little. “Okay, up you get…unless you want me to call the Iron Bull in here to carry you.”

The thought of being carried like a child across Skyhold in the Iron Bull’s arms gets me to my feet quickly enough. I stumble, but Evelyn catches me before I can collapse on the ground.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

How we get up to her tower rooms, I don’t know, but once there, she helps me to her big, plush bed.  I stretch out gratefully on its soft surface and close my eyes. Maker, I am exhausted.

“I’ll be right back,” she says, and I hear her moving around. A door opens (to her water closet?), and there’s the sound of running water, and the next thing I know, I’ve got a blessedly cool cloth covering my eyes.  Another cool cloth is gently wiping away the sweat from my neck and chest and cooling my overheated skin.

I know I should protest. I’m no babe to be coddled like this, but it feels so fucking good, and I’m in too much pain to care.

“Thank you,” I whisper as my eyes grow heavier and heavier, and before I know it, I am lost to the oblivion of sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When next I open my eyes, the room is dark save for a few glowing candles. I raise my head to look round, and thank the Maker; my headache is much improved. No longer do I feel as if I might pass out from turning my head.

I try to sit up but am knocked flat on the bed by the pain that surges through my neck and back. A lassitude overwhelms me; Maker, I’m as weak as a newborn kitten.

“Easy,” Evelyn says, appearing at my side in an instant. Where had she come from? “Here, let me help you sit up.”

I let her ease me into a sitting position and settle me back against several plump pillows.  “How long was I asleep?” I ask

 “Ten hours or so,” she answers. “Are you thirsty? Can I get you some water?”

At the mention of water, I’m suddenly aware of how dry my mouth feels. “Please,” I say.

She pours a glass of water from the ewer on her bedside table and offers it to me.

“Thank you,” I say, sipping the cool liquid. “Uh, thank you for tending to me, as well. I should get back to my quarters, however; people will talk.”

“You think I care about that? No. You are staying here until you’ve rested enough. You’re still exhausted; I can see it. And I have something for you.”

I raise a brow. “You’ve something for me?” I smile, placing a hand on my chest.

She nods her head in the affirmative. “Take off your shirt and lie down on your stomach.”

Both my brows go up at that. What is the little minx up to? Without another word, I strip off my shirt and toss it aside before carefully turning over and lying down on my stomach.

I pillow my head upon my crossed arms and shut my eyes to wait for whatever she has in mind. Moments later, my questions are answered when she straddles my hips and begins to spread oil over my back.

“I’m going to use my magic to warm my hands. Is that all right?”

I sigh as she starts working at the knots in my neck.

“S’fine.” As if I could say no to her when she’s doing _that._ I groan low and deep as heat from her hands flows into me, and my neck muscles slowly uncoil.

She continues to rub my neck for a while, working her way up into the base of my skull, where she presses small circles with her thumbs, and as she works, more of my headache bleeds away.

“Your neck is like a rock,” she comments as she digs into a particularly tight knot at the join of my neck and shoulders. “Do you sleep on your head or something? No wonder you get migraines!”

“Mmm.” Her strong fingers move down to my shoulders, spending time on first my left and then my right, easing the tension in each one.”

“You’ve dislocated both shoulders before, haven’t you?”

“How did you know?”

She laughs, a sweet sound that I long to hear again and again. “The way they sit. You hold one just a little higher than the other."

I relax when she doesn’t prod for more information. I don’t want to explain to a mage that I dislocated them chasing other mages.  Can we say awkward?

Then she starts working on the area between my shoulder blades where my knots have knots. “Ah, fuck…harder, please, yes, that feels so good. Please don’t stop,” I beg because I don’t know what I’d do if she takes her wonderful hands off me just now.

She chuckles. “I won’t, at least not until I’ve rid you of all this tension. Your back is just as bad as your neck, Commander.”

She continues down my back, pressing deep circles into the muscles on either side of my spine with her heated hands. It feels like she’s pressing sun-warmed stones into my skin, the heat suffusing through my muscles.

Then, when she gets down to the waistband of my trousers, she does something that feels even more amazing: she places her thumbs on the sides of my spine and drags them up toward my neck, sending a chorus of pops into the stillness of the room.

The sense of relief I feel as she lifts away the years of tension and injury after injury that have locked my back in spasm is almost too much. “Maker’s breath! Where did you learn to do this?”

She giggles. “My secondary skills are in the healing magics, believe it or not. The First Enchanter always said I was really good at it.”

“Umm.” My words are again taken from me by the pleasure of her healing touch.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I must have fallen asleep under her ministrations because when I wake again, morning light floods her chambers.

I am instantly aware of two things:  one is that my cock is rock-hard, a rather normal circumstance for me, and the other, decidedly not normal for me, is that the Inquisitor is lying snuggled into my side and fast asleep next to me. And she’s got her arm wrapped round my belly with her elbow pressing against me.

I turn my head to look at her sleeping face, and Maker’s breath, she is so lovely, her cheeks flushed, and her head surrounded by a nimbus of brown curls painted in streaks of red and gold from the sunlight streaming through the large windows that it makes my chest hurt.

My eyes drop lower to her chest where her blouse has come unbuttoned in the night, revealing the soft white swells of her breasts, rising and falling with every breath she takes. I squeeze my eyes tight and fight back a groan as my erection grows painful.  Sweet fucking Maker, what am I supposed to do now?

_Get up and leave, you idiot!_

But the ache in my chest sharpens at even the thought of leaving this bed, of leaving _her._

So I do something stupid: I lean in and brush a kiss across those tempting lips.

“Good morning,” I rumble when her eyelids flutter open, and I watch as awareness slowly fades into her features. She sees me lying there beside her and her lips lift in that beautiful smile that makes the blue of her eyes shine and sparkle.

“Good morning, Commander,” she says and brushes her lips across mine in return. “I trust you are feeling better?”

I feel my lips lifting in a silly answering grin. “Much, thanks to you.” I place a hand over her taut middle, bared by the bunching material of her shirt and her eyes widen to huge swirling blue pools as I drag it down to her cloth covered core.

“Can I thank you,” I say, leaning over to worry her earlobe with my teeth “for taking care of me yesterday? “ I begin kissing my way from the hinge of her jaw, across her cheek and finally to her rosebud lips, all the while rubbing my fingers in small insistent circles against her heat.

I slip my tongue between her parted lips, licking at her teeth and demanding entrance to her sweet mouth. She lets me in, and I immediately slant my mouth over hers to deepen the kiss.  Fuck, she tastes even sweeter than the last time we kissed. I wrap an arm round her waist and press her against me as I roll on top of her, keeping most of my weight off her with the other.

“So beautiful,” I murmur as I leave her lips to drag kisses down to her heaving breasts. “So fucking beautiful.”  I raise my head to stare down at her.  Her lips are puffy from my kisses and red marks trail across her white skin where my stubble scraped across it. “Do you want this, sweetling?” I have to be sure. “With me?”

She stares back at me with those huge blue eyes, and for a minute, I think she’s going to ask me to leave, but thank the Maker, she raises a hand to trace my eyebrows with her fingers and says “Yes, Cullen. It’s always been yes.”

I need no further encouragement than that. I rip apart the rest of the buttons on her blouse, and with a growl, drop my face between the valley of her breasts, pressing hungry open-mouthed kisses there as I set about divesting her of her trousers. She wiggles free of her clothing, pressing her now naked flesh against me and I groan at the contact.

“Sweet Maker,” I mutter, my breathing coming in short stuttering gasps. “If you persist in moving round like that, it’s going to be over before it even begins.”

She grins up at me wickedly and reaches for the lacings of my pants, but I grab her hand.

 “Not yet,” I say. “I need my breakfast first.” And I kiss my way down her heaving abdomen — down and down I go until I reach the join of her thighs. I take my time, kissing the crease of her upper thighs, enjoying the way her hips buck and the sounds of her hissing breaths.

“Oh, Cullen. My Cullen,” she gasps, her voice high pitched with desire.

I pause and stiffen momentarily. Do I belong to her? Conversely, does that mean that she belongs to me, too?  The tightness in my chest explodes and a sense of rightness overcomes me.

Dare I hope that this young noble female, and a mage at that, could be mine — me, a farmer’s son from Honnleath with no land, titles, or money beyond my savings and salary?

I shrug. I’ll think about that later. Right now, there’s a feast before me, and I intend to have my fill. I resume my ministrations, laying her open from slit to clit with the flat of my tongue. I chuckle as she shivers above me and her moisture coats my lips, nose, and chin.

“So fucking responsive,” I growl against her. “So delicious, too,” and I lick the cream that coats her inner and outer lips, nuzzling at her pearl with the tip of my nose.

“Cullen!” She screams out, but I pull away before she can reach her end. “Wha-what…” she stammers, looking at me with confused blue eyes.

I rise to kneel between her legs, offering her a nasty grin. “Not just yet, my little slut,” I say, palming the bulge of my cock through my trousers.  “I want to feel you wrapped round my cock when you come. I want to feel you squeezing me as you come apart under me.”

A surprising growl emanates from her as she reaches determinedly for my trouser laces, making quick work of them before dragging them down my legs.  I shift to let her pull them off me and return to kneeling before her spread legs.

“You’re beautiful,” she breathes, as she sits up and reaches out to trace the vee of my inguinal crease with one finger, her gaze rapt on my thick cock springing from the dark blond curls covering my groin. When she wraps her fingers round me, I close my eyes and groan, fighting for control as my orgasm threatens to overwhelm me.

I quickly wrap a hand around hers and draw it away from me as I gently push her back down. “Another time,” I whisper, squeezing her hand. “I’m going to come all over your belly if you keep doing that.”

She smiles at me and lays back. “Well, Commander? What are you waiting for, then?” she says with a quirked brow.

“Too sassy by half,” I growl as I poise at her entrance. “This might hurt at first, love. I’ll be as gentle as I can.” I lean down to press kiss after kiss to her sweet lips before pushing slowly into her.  She gasps and I watch her face for any signs of pain as I move further in, a little at a time.

 Maker, she’s so fucking tight. It’s all I can do not to sheath myself completely and start thrusting. But I  bite down on the urge and continue my slow slide until little by little; I am fully hilted.  And oh, Maker, how good it feels to be inside her.  She fits my cock like she’s made for me. As she grows accustomed to my size, I feel her inner muscles start to tighten round me, slick and hot and my control slips a little more.

 “Cullen,” she says. “I need to…I need…” And she’s grinding her pelvis against mine, her walls gripping me — fuck, the friction is almost more than I can bear.

“I know, love.” I thrust one hand between us to rub her clit as I start to move inside her. I need to make her come before I lose it. “Come on, sweetheart, come for me…oh fuck!”

Her body shudders and quakes under me, and as I feel her clench round me, my end overtakes me, and I groan, deep and long as I empty myself inside her.

Stupid in the aftermath of my orgasm, I collapse at her side, sweaty and spent. At the edges of my senses, I feel her curl up beside me, and I pull her close, tucking her into my side as I drop a kiss on the top of her head.

I allow sleep to claim me once more, satisfied in the knowledge that _she’s_ resting at my side.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Voices rouse me from my slumber, and I open my eyes to find that I am alone in bed. I sit up and look round the room, a deep sigh of relief rushing out me when I see her standing at the top of the stairs and conversing with a servant.

I tuck the blankets round my middle and lean back on the plush pillows with my arms behind my head as I wait for her to finish her conversation.  I notice the servant, a tiny Elven girl, glancing nervously at me and I grin to put her at ease.

Evelyn notices the girl’s uneasy glance and looks over at me and smiles. I wink at her in response.

The fact that I’ve spent the night in the Inquisitor’s rooms and now have been seen lounging naked in her bed will be all over Skyhold before sundown, but I can’t bring myself to care. For one thing, there’s nothing I can do about it now, and for another, I find I quite like the idea that everyone knows that we’re together.  I can now claim her openly and put every other man on notice that this beautiful creature is _mine._

“What was that about?” I ask Evelyn as she turns away from the stairwell and walks back toward me after the servant scurries back down the stairs.

She grins sheepishly at me. “We’re expected in the War Room right away,” she says and perches on the side of the bed. “Much as I’d rather crawl back in there with you, we’ve work to do.”

I chuckle at the dejected tone in her voice and lean in for a kiss. “To work, then?”

“To work,” she concurs.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Leliana and Josephine are waiting for us in the War Room when we stroll in, hand in hand, an hour and a half later.  I nod at the two other women, but neither raises her gaze to meet mine or return my greeting. A frisson of unease shivers through me as I take my place between them. What in the Fade was going on here?

 “Well?” the Inquisitor asks, hands on her hips. “What’s so urgent? More undead in Crestwood? Venatori in the Hissing Wastes? “

Leliana nods at Josephine and Josephine sighs. “Inquisitor, we’ve had a message from your family.”

A concerned frown pinches Evelyn’s brow. “Are they all right?”

“Oh, do not worry, Inquisitor, they are fine,” reassures the Antivan.

“What does the letter say, then?” Evelyn leans on the War Table, blue eyes on the Ambassador who seems quite interested in the fit of her ruffled sleeves of a sudden.

When she answers, the words come out of her in a rush, as if she can’t wait to unload them. “They are coming to visit, and they are bringing your fiancé with them.”

 “What?” I hear the words, but they make no sense to me. How can my Evelyn be promised to someone else? And why wouldn’t she tell me? The vise is back round my chest, squeezing so tightly that I can scarce draw breath and a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. For a minute, I think I might vomit. I look over at the Inquisitor, who stands stiff as a board, face drained of color. “Tell me this is a mistake. This must be a mistake.”

Evelyn looks away from me and turns to Josephine. “When are they due to arrive?” She asks quietly.

Josephine looks down at her tablet. “In a fortnight,” she responds.

“Evelyn?”  I come round the table and stand before her, my eyes pleading with her to tell me _something,_ anything that would help me understand.

But she still won’t even look at me, much less address me. “Leliana, can you send your scouts to escort them when their carriage draws near?”

“Of course, Inquisitor.” The Spymaster’s eyes flick to mine and then away.

I can’t bear to be in this room any longer. With an angry growl, I whirl about and stalk through the War Room doors, letting them slam resoundingly shut in my wake.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cullen makes a mess, Evelyn comes clean, and both of them have some fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just a little angsty and a lot lusty. Cullen can't get enough, apparently, or I can't get enough of writing him getting his freak on with Evelyn. So, lots of Cullen smut for all of you who love that kind of thing. ;) 
> 
> Thanks again for all of your comments and kudos. They're all appreciated, and I try and respond to everyone.
> 
> Anyway, on with the story. I hope you like it. XD

I stalk across the courtyard with long staccato steps, and the expression on my face must be forbidding indeed because anyone who is unlucky to be in my path quickly scurries to get out of my way.

Rylen is training the newest recruits in the training yard as I approach. Some of them are casting worried looks in my direction as I start to remove my armor, piece by piece, and prop it up against the fence.

“Commander?” Rylen asks. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, Captain.”  I strip off my shirt and hang it on a fence post. “I require some exercise. Carry on.”

“Yes, Ser!” He salutes sharply but sends another worried look in my direction as I unsheathe my sword and head for the row of training dummies lining one side of the yard.

“All right, men,” Rylen says to the recruits. “Today we’re going to learn some basic shield tactics…”

I tune out his voice and the sounds of the recruits picking up their wooden shields as I focus in on a training dummy. I let fly a spinning sword attack that guts the dummy in one move. I stand for a moment, breathing a little ragged,  watching as straw leaks out of its sliced abdomen.

_Why didn’t she tell me? Why did she let me…fuck!_

I let out a snarl and focus on the training dummy again.  Over and over, I swing my sword, the sound of steel hissing through the air and the bite of the blade as it hits home, venting some of the rage churning in my gut. I don’t notice the audience gathering to watch my sword-work.

_Fool! You should have known better.  Men like you don’t get to call women like her their own._

My next attack severs the dummy’s head clean off, sending it sailing across the yard. It drops at the feet of a shocked onlooker, but still, I continue my barrage of hits.  Left, right, riposte, feint right, jab, riposte, left, riposte, right, jab, jab, feint left, whirl, jab.

  _Didn’t you learn your lesson at the Tower of Ferelden, boy? Grow the **fuck** up!_

When the dummy is naught more than a pile of scattered straw and canvas strips, I move over to the next one down the row and start over again. Right, riposte left, feint right, whirl, left, jab, right, riposte, jab, whirl, left, right, riposte, jab, feint right, riposte, jab, whirl, jab.

When I feel the hands on my sword arm, halting my swing, I growl low and mean, tearing myself away and squaring off against my attacker.

I don’t see who it is, nor do I care.  All I can see is Evelyn, standing in the War Room, refusing to look at me while she rips the heart from me. The hurt coalesces into a bright red rage that paints everything around me in crimson. If they want to stop me, they’re going to have to fight me. I growl again and gesture that they should come at me. I pull my lips back from my teeth in an ugly snarl.

_Yes, give me a real fight. I need to see someone bleed._

“Commander!” A voice calls out from the sidelines, breaking through the rage-soaked fog that clouds my mind and my vision. “Stand down at once!”

It’s the Seeker’s voice.

I am at once aware that I am standing in the middle of the training yard, and that not a single training dummy is left standing. Sweat covers my torso and drips down from my chin, and I am breathing hard. Rylen stands before me, his face white with apprehension.

_Maker’s breath, what have I almost done?_

Cassandra stands outside of the fenced training area, hand on the hilt of her sword, expression guarded. “Come, Commander,” she says. “Let’s go back to your office.’

I look round the courtyard, surprised that the muted blues, mauves, and grays of early evening have replaced the pale yellows, oranges, and reds of afternoon.

I nod to Rylen, and his expression eases as he salutes and walks away. “Just a moment,” I say to Cassandra as I make for the pile of my armor leaning against the fence on the other side of the yard.

“Leave it,” she orders, her voice still tight. “I’ll have someone bring it to your office later,”

I shrug and wince as my right shoulder protests the movement, but follow Cassandra as she leads the way back to my tower without further protest.

When we get to my office, I flop boneless into my chair. I raise my brow in a silent question and cross my arms over my sweaty chest as I regard Cassandra standing across the desk from me.

“I heard what happened,” she says flatly. “And I know it’s painful for you, but what you did today — in front of our newest recruits — was ill-advised.”

I huff out an irritated sigh and run a hand through my sweaty curls. “And what did they see, hmm? Their Commander making mincemeat out of the training dummies?” I snort. “If that’s the worst thing they see, they should count themselves lucky!”

She leans forward over my desk with such an intense stare that I am forced to look away. “You’re better than this. Get it under control, Commander Rutherford,” she grits out.

I rub my sore shoulder with one hand and sigh, suddenly exhausted beyond the bearing. “Yes, all right…fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need get cleaned up. As you can see,” I indicate the mountain of reports on my desk. “I have a lot of work to do.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It’s much later that night when I get another visitor. I’m reviewing supply manifests and calculating the amount of metal and stone that will be needed to continue repairing Skyhold, as well as the needs of our growing army when I hear a knock upon my door.

“Enter!” I return to my calculations. Whoever it was would make it known why they were here before too long.

“Cullen, I’m sorry.”

At the sound of that voice, I look up to see Evelyn — no, the Inquisitor — standing in front of my desk. She has her hands clasped behind her, and she’s studying something on my desk with keen interest. Maker take me, the sight of her, standing so lovely before me, brown ringlets tumbling down her back and her cheeks rosy with emotion makes me want to gather her up in my arms and tell her that I’m not letting her go.

“There’s naught to be sorry for, Inquisitor,” I say coldly. “I wish you and your…fiancé,” my voice cracks on the word. Damn it! I swallow to get past the lump in my throat. “I wish you all the best,”  I finish.

The next thing I know, she’s rounded my desk, and both her hands are on my shoulders, and her blue eyes are filled with tears.  “Can’t you see? It’s not what I want!”

“Not what you…” A tiny glimmer of hope loosens the vise round my chest, and for the first time since this morning, I can breathe a little easier. “Talk to me,” I say, urging her to sit at the edge of my desk.

Evelyn raises a hand trace the seam of my lips. I grab her hand and press a kiss to her palm, smiling encouragingly at her.

“Before my magic manifested, I was best friends with the neighbor’s boy. We would play together all the time, and our families thought it a good idea to betroth us to each other.” Her hands begin playing with the open collar of my shirt. “However, as you know mages can’t marry, so after I was sent to the Circle, I thought the marriage contract was null and void. Maker!” She brushes back her hair nervously, and her eyes plead with mine. “You have to believe me; I didn’t know. I haven’t seen him since we were children.”

I can’t hold back any longer. I pick up her hands and tug her into my lap. I press a kiss to her sweet lips and hug her to me, burying my face in her hair.

“Then we talk to them.” I draw back enough so that I can look in her eyes. I cup her cheek gently before continuing. “Whenever they get here, we sit them down, and we explain. Surely they can’t expect you to go through with wedding this chap in these circumstances?”

She laughs nervously and looks away from me. “You don’t know my parents. They’ll insist that I live up to my part of the marriage contract. It’s also a matter of solidifying the partnership between our two houses.”

I place one knuckle under her chin and gently nudge her face up so that she is looking at me. “Well, that’s not good enough for me. As your Commander, I forbid it.” I smile to take the bite out of my words. “You, Lady Trevelyan, are mine, and I’ll not let you go so easily.” 

She finally relaxes in my arms, and this time, her laugh is genuine. “Is that so, Commander Rutherford?”

“Quite.” I stand up, carrying her against my chest. “And now, I think it’s time for bed.” I start walking with long, purposeful strides toward the ladder.

“Cullen, you can’t mean to carry me up that ladder? “

I smirk at her. “Well, my bed is up there. And I want you in it.” I shift so that I’m holding her against my chest with one arm while I place the other hand on the ladder.

“No, Cullen, put me down! You’ll fall and break both of our necks!”

I chuckle at the alarm in her voice. “Well, if you prefer, I can do it this way, instead.” With that, I hoist her easily over my shoulder and start climbing the ladder to the accompaniment of her half-hearted shrieks of protest and tiny hands pummeling my back.

Once upstairs, I drop the writhing woman in my arms upon my bed. She smirks at me, her blue eyes sparkling in the guttering candlelight. Maker, she’s so beautiful. And she’s bloody well mine, sod her fiance.

I get on the bed beside her and cover her body gently with mine, bearing most of my weight on one arm while the other hand brushes away some curls that fall over her face. I stare down at her for a moment, unable to believe that she is here, in my bed.

“You’ve bewitched me,” I whisper. “I can scarce breathe when I’m with you, and not at all when I’m away from you.”

She looks up at me, one hand coming up to brush against my stubbled cheek. “Cullen,” she breathes. “I love you.” And the truth of it is there in her eyes, luminous with the shine of unshed tears.

Maker’s breath.

I drop my head to kiss her, pouring out all of the feelings bubbling in my chest that I can’t give speech to yet, and hoping she understands. She returns my kiss, twining her tongue with mine, her hands coming round to hold the back of my head.

I suck at her lower lip and run my tongue over her slightly prominent front teeth, just enjoying her taste, while my hand moves down to work at the buttons of her blouse. Her hands come down to help me, her smaller nimbler fingers making quicker work of undoing those damned tiny buttons.

Growling impatiently, I fairly rip the damned thing off her, taking her breast band with it. When those perfect globes bounce free of their bindings, I am momentarily transfixed. Maker’s fucking breath, but there are no words to describe how magnificent they are.

I take a nipple into my mouth, closing my eyes and groaning at the sensation of that pert bud against my tongue. I suck and nip at it gently, drawing shivers and a soft sigh from Evelyn.

She palms my still-clothed chest. “Too many clothes,” she says.

I draw back, arching a brow at her. “You want this off?” I ask, pinching the Cambric of my shirt.

“And this,” she says, reaching down to rub her hand against the clothed bulge of my cock. I shudder and groan at the touch, my eyes rolling back in my head.

“Fuck,” I ground out, but I quickly move to comply. “As my lady wishes,” I say, loosening the laces of my shirt before tugging it over my head. Next, come my pants, and I watch as her gaze locks on my groin as I untie the laces that hold the front placket closed. I allow a smirk to lift one corner of my mouth as I slowly let my trousers fall open, baring my very hard, very swollen cock to her ardent gaze.

“Sweet Maker,” she whispers, getting off the bed to come and kneel before me. She looks up at me, her eyes huge. She raises a hand toward me. “May I?” Her voice is breathless, and I can see the pounding pulse in her throat.

I close my eyes and summon all of my Templar control. “Yes.”

And oh, to feel her soft fingers wrapping round me is the sweetest torture and purest paradise at the same time. I shiver as she runs her fingers up and down my length, gritting my teeth as I will my hips to remain still under her heady assault. When she cups my balls with her other hand and gives them a gentle squeeze while continuing to run her fingers over me, I see stars.

Fucking Void take me now! This girl is going to kill me before the night is through.

“Sweetheart,” I say, gently plucking her hands away from me. “As much as I am enjoying your hands on me, and fuck, believe me, I am, there will be other times when you can explore me to your heart’s content. But not…not now.”

“But why?” Her sweet face wears such a disappointed look that I laugh indulgently. So innocent she is.  

“Because, my lovely,” I say, picking her up in my arms again and kissing that little wrinkle on her nose. “If you keep touching me like that, I am going to come all over your pretty face.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

I lay her out on the bed, and we work at getting her out of her trousers before I sprawl out beside her and take one full breast in hand.

“Do you know how beautiful I find these?” I ask, using one calloused thumb to flick the nipple back and forth.

“I think I know,” she says between gasps as I take the other breast in my other hand and bow over it to suckle on its nipple, delighting in the way her body quakes under my touch. I wonder what she’d think if I told her that I want to slide my cock between those soft mounds and fuck them until I come all over her chest and throat?

No, I won’t tell her about that just yet. But, oh, there’s so much I want to teach her about wild, passionate fucking.

I kiss my way down her belly and all the way to her soaking cunt. “So wet,” I murmur. “I haven’t told you how luscious your cunny is, have I?  How sweet and lip-smacking good it tastes…” I lick her, starting on one side and going all the way round to the other.

Her breathing hitches and stutters and her entire body shudders. “Cul-len.” She grits out, and I know she’s close.

“Mmm. So good,” I say, taking another lick before parting her lips with my thumbs to get at that little nub of flesh. I take it in my teeth and worry at it a little, and she shudders again, gasping for breath.

As her hips buck against my face, I start a delicious suction on her clit, while working it with my thumbs and inserting my fingers inside her at the same time.

“Cullen. Cullen, Cullen” Her voice chanting my name over and over is like the sweetest symphony to my ears.  I start flicking her bud back and forth, faster and faster, pausing every so often to lick my way round it. Her juices are flowing, filling my mouth with her ambrosial flavor.

Yes, that’s it, my love. Come for me. Yes, yes, yes, and YES! When her orgasm overcomes her, she begins to shudder uncontrollably, hips bucking, a keening cry coming from her lips, and oh, it’s glorious!

I crawl over her body to press a kiss to her lips, letting her taste herself on my tongue. We lay there for a few moments, kissing while her body recovers from her pleasure.

“Cullen,” she says a little breathlessly between kisses. “Will you teach me,” Kiss. “How to” kiss. “Do that”  kiss. “To you?”

“Do what?”

Okay, so I am a bit of an arse, but you’ll forgive me for teasing her just this little bit, won’t you? After all, I am in quite the state just now, and I’ve had quite the day.

A frown of consternation comes over her features, drawing out that delightful little wrinkle that calls to my lips to place a kiss there. So I do.

“The-the thing.” She says, blue eyes so serious. “The thing you just did to me?”

“Ah,” I say. “That.  You want to put your mouth on my cock?” My lips twitch upward in a small smirk.

 “Cullen!” She playfully slaps my chest. “You know very well what I mean. And yes, I want to put my mouth…there.”

I raise my brows and cover my mouth with one hand as if I am a blushing virgin. “Well now, however, am I supposed to know what you mean? Tis innocent, I am!”

This earns me another slap across the chest, and we both fall onto our backs laughing. And, Maker, it feels good to laugh like this. But I have another problem: my cock is still lying hard and throbbing against my stomach, and it’s demanding its due. Now.

I get up to kneel beside her on the bed. “On your knees, love,” I say. While not quite my Commander voice, it’s pretty close, and she responds instantly, getting on her knees upon the bed.

“Like this?” she asks, wiggling her arse at me.

I groan as my cock tightens more, the muscles in my thighs, calves and hips contracting. She can’t know what she’s doing to me. She can’t.

“Lower,” I growl. “Lean on your elbows..mmhmm, like that.”

Once she’s in position, forehead on the bed covers and she’s balanced on her elbows, I move behind her and enter her in a smooth motion. Oh, how I’ve dreamed of this very thing, taking her from behind like this. It feels…Maker, there are no words to describe how good it feels.

I begin to move, helpless to stop the rocking of my hips. I bring a hand round to find her clit and rub it in gentle circles. I want to bring her over one more time before I come myself, but it’s going to have to be quick, because, fuck, I’m just about at the point of no return.

“Oh, Maker — Cullen!” she screams as her end finds her end again, and I’m right behind her, hips stuttering and losing their rhythm as my orgasm comes crashing down on me.

Later, when she is asleep in my arms, curled under the covers with me, I kiss her hair and murmur too softly for her to hear as sleep overtakes me, too: “My sweet Evelyn. How I love you.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Evelyn's parents arrive and Cullen is forced to deal with nobles and their affectations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update. I had a bit of trouble with this chapter, going back and forth over what I was doing with it. But I finally got it done, so here it is.
> 
> Yes, there's more Cullen-smut, how could there not be? Hehe. There's also story, too, though. I hope you guys like it. 
> 
> I haven't given this as thorough of a proof-read as normal because I am anxious to share it with you guys.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for all of the sweet comments and the kudos. Like I've said before, they make me want to write moar!

“Maker.”

I’m sprawled naked on Evelyn’s bed, and she’s got her mouth wrapped round my cock. She’s moving her head up and down, bringing her tongue round to swipe across the sensitive flesh under the head with each pass. One of her hands is cupping my balls, playing with them, while the other is gripping the base of my cock, moving up and down in time with her slick, wet mouth.

“Mmm.” she hums on the down stroke and the vibrations travel up my spine, lighting up my nerve-endings and making me _tingle_. My back arches and I groan; I’m not quiet about it, and I don’t need to be. We’ve been sharing the same bed almost every night for the past two weeks, and everyone knows that the Inquisitor and her Commander are together.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” I say, tangling a hand in the lush fall of her hair. “You’re a natural, keep going, .deeper, just a little deeper….mmm.”

I rise on my elbows to watch her as her head bobs up and down, watch that sweet mouth take me in. She looks up at me and grins round a mouthful of cock, a secret little smile that tells me she’s enjoying this, too. I bite my lip and hiss through my teeth as she drops her head lower and lower, her mouth enveloping me more and more. If she only knew how damned sexy, she looks going down on me.

 “F-fuck!” I clench my jaw and draw my eyebrows together as I fight to draw out the pleasure just a little longer.

But when her tongue makes another slow pass up my shaft, round the head and lingers on the seam of my frenulum, I’m lost. A long, low moan tears through my clenched teeth as my balls tighten and I come powerfully inside her mouth and down her lovely throat.

She takes it all and swallows it down; my hand is cupping the back of her head, fingers buried in her hair as she rides it out, continuing to suck, decadent wet slurps and smacks sounding from her soft lips.

It’s so bloody hot that I think I might come again.

When it’s over, she lets my deflating cock slip from her mouth and slides up my body to nestle beside me, her head on my shoulder while she runs her fingers through the hair on my chest.

I bend my neck to press a kiss to the top of her head before settling back and covering my eyes with one forearm. “Thank you, love, that was…Maker’s breath, that was incredible.”

She kisses the underside of my jaw but says nothing in response, and we continue to lie there in silence for a while.

“Cullen?”

“Yes, love?”

“My parents and my betrothed will arrive today.”

I wince at the mention of her fiancé. “I know,” I say and bring a hand up to brush her hair away from her face. “And we’ll face them together, you and I, all right?”

“I love you,” she says and lifts up so that she can kiss me. I can taste myself on her, salty on her tongue, mingling with the sweetness of her own flavor, and I groan against her mouth, taking over the kiss and flipping us so that she’s lying beneath me.

“You’re beautiful,” I say, staring down at her and caressing her cheek with one calloused thumb. “And you’re _mine._  Don’t ever forget that. _”_ I cover her lips in another long, slow kiss, my tongue searching out the corners and crevices of her mouth.

I slide a hand between her legs and press a thumb against her clit while using my fingers to enter her. She gasps and bucks against me, but I press her down with my weight — not too much — just enough to still her. “Don’t move,” I growl. “Be a good girl, and I’ll let you come. Would you like that, sweetling?”

“Yes, please, Cullen,” she whines, trying to create some friction for her clit on my thumb. I let a little more of my weight press on her.

“Being cheeky, are you? Hmm…I don’t think I can let you come then,” and I start to withdraw my hand.

“Yes, please, Ser,” she says quickly, and I chuckle, fitting my hand back over her wet cunt, pinching her clit with thumb and forefinger while fucking her with my other three fingers.

“There’s my good girl,” I whisper, trailing kisses from her mouth down the side of her jaw and burying my face in the crook of her neck. “Such a good girl; so wet and so wanton. What would people say if they knew that the Herald of Andraste loves being finger-fucked by her Commander…hmm?”

She keens and mewls, struggling to arch her back under my weight, but she cannot move as I continue to pinch and flick at her pearl while diving as deep as I can into her soft, welcoming warmth. I place my lips over the pulse in her throat and suck on the delicate skin there. I want, oh, Maker, I want to mark her as _mine, mine, mine._

Fuck, she brings out the possessive beast in me.  Never have I wanted a woman as much I do her. Never have I wanted to stake my claim with such an all-encompassing _need._

I continue my trail of kisses down to her magnificent chest. There, I feast on her nipples, bathing each one in turn with my tongue. Meanwhile, I’ve not let up with my assault on her cunt. She is seconds away from going over, I can feel it.

I pause my ministrations to lean back and observe her lying beneath me,  heavy-lidded eyes glazed over with passion, pulse thundering in her throat, under my very visible love bite, and lips red from my kisses. She looks thoroughly debauched, and I love it, nasty fellow that I am.

Unable to resist, I say in a stern voice “What do good girls say when they want to come?”

Her brow furrows and her nose wrinkles. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t make me ask again,” I interrupt, but I can hardly keep the smile out of my voice.

She swallows and looks up at me with those blue eyes. “Please, Commander, Ser, I want to come.”

“Oh yes, my darling,” I say as I resume working on her clit. Just a couple of swipes with my thumb and she comes, calling my name.

Have I mentioned how much I enjoy hearing my name on her lips when she comes? I have? Ah, well, it bears repeating because it’s very true.

I stretch out beside my girl and pull her into my arms. She snuggles against me and presses a kiss to my sweaty chest. We lie there together for a time, neither of us in any hurry to start the day.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The news that the Inquisitor’s family’s carriage has been sighted on the road to Skyhold comes as I am in the middle of a training exercise.

“Captain Rylen, please take over,” I toss over my shoulder before jogging toward the stairs leading to the battlements.

“Yes, Ser!” Rylen steps forward and takes my place at the head of the phalanx of battling recruits.

Maker, they’re early. I won’t have time to draw a full bath: I’ll just have to make due with a quick sponge-off. I run a hand over my stubbled jaw. And a shave.

I rush through Solas’ rotunda after I finish my ablutions as the horn sounds, announcing the arrival of our guests. Once in the courtyard, I quickly take my place beside Evelyn, Leliana, and Josephine as we watch the Trevelyan retinue thunder through the gates.

I frown as I count the number of carriages: ten all told: six of them carry people and four carts are filled to overflowing with crates, chests, and boxes. How long do the Trevelyans think they’re staying? Surely not for more than a fortnight! I raise an eyebrow toward Josephine, who shrugs and returns her attention to our guests who are just now disembarking.

I stand up as straight as possible as a couple whom I assume to be Evelyn’s parents exit the first and most ornate of the carriages.

“Darling!” cries the petite redheaded woman, rushing forward to hug Evelyn. “It’s so good to see you!”

I step back to let the family reunite and watch as another person exits the carriage, a young man roughly the same age as Evelyn.

“Evie? Maker, is that you?” the tall, thin young fellow exclaims.

“Pietr?” Her eyes go wide, and suddenly she’s in his arms, and he’s swinging her round and round. They’re both laughing, obviously pleased to see each other.

My fists clench at my sides as everything that I am tells me to make for damn sure that there’s no doubt about who she belongs to. More, I want to pick the smaller man up by his ridiculous scarf and pound his too-pretty face into the ground. 

_Easy, Rutherford. They’re childhood friends, remember?_

Pietr finally releases Evelyn, and the two continue to stand near one another as Evelyn begins the introductions.

“Father, Mother, Pietr, may I introduce my advisors: Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador, Sister Leliana, our spymaster, and Commander Cullen Rutherford, leader of the Inquisition’s armies.”

I nod politely, managing to keep my expression neutral. Lord Trevelyan’s eyes pass over me before settling on Josephine. He bows politely and says “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Lady Montilyet.”

“Why thank you, milord, and likewise.” Josephine curtsies. “Now, I am sure you’d like to see the rooms we’ve prepared for you, yes?”

Lady Trevelyan glides forward, taking her husband’s arm. “ _Certainment_ ,” she says. “And you have rooms for all our servants, no?” She speaks with an Orlesian accent.  Oh, for fuck’s sake!

“Of course,” Josephine says and gives me a look that says _find something. Now_.

As I watch the group enter the main hall, I quickly run through the list of available rooms in my head. Not bloody enough. Shit! Some of my men will have to double-bunk until the Trevelyans leave. I press a hand to my left brow where a headache is starting to pound.

“Come, Captain, we’ve some shuffling round to do,” I say to Rylen. Rylen dismisses the recruits, and the two of us head for the barracks to see what we can find.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It takes me the rest of the day to wrangle enough rooms to accommodate the Trevelyan staff. By the time supper rolls round, my head is killing me, and I am absolutely exhausted. I want nothing more than to retire to either my tower or Evelyn’s rooms to share a private meal with her before asking her to rub my neck and shoulders and collapsing into bed.

I drag myself into the main hall whereupon I am stunned by the transformation that’s taken place. Lining the hall are long tables filled with food of every variety and, upon the dais, the Inquisitor’s throne is gone, replaced by yet another long table at which the Inquisitor dines with her parents, Leliana, Josephine, Dorian, Sera, the Iron Bull, Varric, and Cassandra.

“Commander!” Josephine calls when she sees me. “Come, we’ve saved a spot for you.”

I nod at her, and as I draw closer, I see that there’s an empty chair between Evelyn and Leliana. Thank the Maker. I grin at Evelyn as I take my seat and her returning smile fills me with warmth.

And Evelyn. Fuck. Tonight, she looks every inch the young noblewoman she is; she’s wearing a midnight blue sea silk gown that sweeps low over the swell of her creamy breasts and is accentuated by a girdle of silverite and sapphires. Her brown curls are gathered in a loose chignon, showing off the long elegant lines of her neck, round which she wears a matching silverite and sapphire pendant.

I lean over to whisper in her ear “As lovely as you look in that dress, I just want to strip it off you and bury my face twixt your thighs.” I chuckle as I watch her cheeks blush.

“Cullen!” she reproaches quietly, but her blue eyes are sparkling with mirth.

“Ah, sweetling, you love it,” I say and reach under the table to squeeze her silk-clad thigh, which earns me a wrap on the knuckles of my other hand, which is resting on my own thigh. I turn to the Spymaster in surprise.

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford, behave yourself,” she whispers, casting me a side-long glance.

I smirk and lean over in the other direction to murmur in Leliana’s ear. “What, are you her chaperone, now, Sister?”

She arches a perfectly groomed eyebrow at me. “She needs one around you, Commander. We had to spend an hour concealing that mark you left on her neck.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” I say with a sly wink before turning my attention to our guests.

“Men,” I hear her say, and I know she is rolling her eyes with a very Orlesian shrug.

I chuckle and survey the Trevelyan party. Lord and Lady Trevelyan sit together to the left while Pietr sits across from Evelyn. His gaze on her is rapt and hungry, and as much as I understand the feeling, I can’t help but want to throttle him for it.

I watch the boy’s hands work his cutlery — they’re soft hands, hands that have never known any hard work — Void, any work at all. I look down at my own hands, large and blunt-fingered, calloused and scarred. For a few seconds, I consider that perhaps she would be better off with a man like Pietr: he can afford to take care of her like she deserves.

Then she looks at me with those huge blue eyes, her mouth curves in that smile that’s only for me, and all thought flies out the window. I return the smile helplessly, knowing I must look like a lovesick fool, but I don’t fucking care.

Right now, all I want is to pick her up and lay her out on this table, ruck up the skirts of her gown and have her right there, Void take her parents,  Corypheus, and the Inquisition itself. I want to worship her with my body and claim her soul with mine.Very Fereldan of me, I know. But I’ve never pretended to be anything else.

I catch Pietr watching us with keen green eyes. A quick raising and lowering of one brow tell me that he knows about us. I look over at the Trevelyans, but they appear none the wiser. However, that will need to change, and soon.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

That night I can’t risk going to Evelyn’s quarters, so after supper, I return to my tower and settle behind my desk to do more work. Maker knows that there’s always plenty of that.

I work through a stack of requisition requests from my captains in the field and am in the middle of reading through a series of reports from the Western Approach when I hear a knock upon my door.  It can only be one person this late at night, so I smile warmly as I call out “Enter!”

“Hi,” Evelyn says. She’s exchanged her gown for a simple tunic and breeches, but her hair remains in its loose bun at her nape.

“There you are!” I can’t keep the happiness out of my voice at the sight of her.  I pull back my chair and pat my lap invitingly. “Come here, love, and give us a kiss.”

She comes and perches on my lap, wrapping her arms round my neck. I immediately cover her mouth with my own. As she opens for my tongue, I slide it in and revel in the taste of her, the feel of her soft curves against my chest and her arse nestled over my rapidly hardening cock. I kiss her as if it’s been weeks since the last time instead of just this morning, and she reciprocates.

“Cullen,” she says when we break apart. Her voice is wan, and I look at her face. It’s pale in the candlelight, her blue eyes solemn.

“Evelyn.”  I brush back a curl that’s come loose from her chignon and tuck it behind her ear. “You’re tired, sweetling. Shall we go to bed?”

She nods her head, and I stand with her in my arms and bear my precious burden up the ladder. I deposit her on my bed and start working at the buttons of her tunic — the hundreds of them. Maker’s breath, why are women’s clothes so bloody difficult to take off?

“Cullen,” she says quietly. “I don’t think my parents are going to be easy to convince.”

I chuckle. “Well, I wasn’t expecting this to be easy, love.” I finish unbuttoning her tunic and slide it off her shoulders. I bend to slip off her boots before going to work on her trousers.

She climbs under the covers and watches me as I undress. “And Leliana and Josephine seem to think that this marriage is a good idea.”

“Do they now?” I strip off my breeches and join Evelyn under the covers, drawing her into my embrace. “Well, I disagree” I kiss her lips gently.” Remind me to have a word with those two about keeping their noses out of our business.”

She cups my cheek in her hand. “I love you, Cullen Rutherford, and nothing will ever change that,” she says, tracing the wrinkles at the outer corner of my left eye with a fingertip.

That warm feeling expands inside my chest again. It softens all of the hard places inside me as I lose myself in the depths of her blue eyes.  I take her face in both hands and kiss her powerfully.

“What have you done to me?” I whisper when the kiss is over. My hands are still on her cheeks, and I brush my thumbs against the rosy flush of them, so soft under my rough skin.

She just smiles at me, an indulgent smile, as if she knows something I don’t.  That idea is a little scary, to be honest, and I have to look away.

I suddenly let out a huge, jaw-cracking yawn. “Maker, I’m completely wiped,” I say. “Let’s get some sleep; we’ve another long day coming tomorrow.”

She buries her face in my chest and nods her head. Soon, she drifts off to sleep.  Despite my weariness, I lay awake for a long time after that before sleep finally claims me, too.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Commander!”

I look up from the duty roster I am preparing to see one of my soldiers come barreling through my office door, red-faced and breathing hard.

“What is it this time?”

“You must come to the training yards right away, Ser. One of the guests has commandeered the entire training arena, Ser, and Knight-Captain Rylen requests your assistance.

I run a hand over my face and sigh. Maker’s breath, these nobles are going to drive me insane. “Tell the Knight-Captain I’ll be right there.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When I get down to the training yard, I’m greeted with the sight of Rylen in some sort of stand-off with Pietr and several of Pietr’s servants.  They stand before a massive tent that’s been erected over the entire training yard.

“What is going on here?” I ask as I join the group of men.

“Your man here insists that I take down my exercise room!” Pietr exclaims, hands on his hips. He’s wearing a flowy white shirt, black breeches, and another scarf round his thin neck.  He’s got…is that some kind of sword strapped to his hips?

“We have no room to train the men, Ser,” Rylen tells me as I continue to appraise the Marcher’s thin blade.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and struggle to contain my irritation. “My Lord,” I say in a calm voice. “You realize that we’ve a war going on, correct?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t see why that should impede my daily training regimen.”

I take a deep breath and look round at the recruits’ faces as they eye the monstrosity now occupying their training field, their earnest young faces so brave and determined.  The sight rapidly devolves my irritation into full blown anger. How dare this pompous arse come here and take over MY training yard?

“Nevertheless,“  I say calmly, despite my ire. “You will take down your tent immediately. We need this yard for training the soldiers.”

Pietr laughs and leans close to get in my face. “La. D’you really think you can order me about like one of your men, Commander?”

My hand shoots out and grabs a fistful of Pietr’s shirt, and I hoist him off his feet. His gasp of fear and the way his eyes grow large and round is quite satisfying. “Yes,” I growl, fixing him with my most intimidating glare. “And you _will_ obey, lest I have you thrown out on your arse!” I set him back on his feet. “Are we understood?”

Pietr brushes his hands over his sleeves, brushing away imaginary dirt and wrinkles. “Yes,” he hisses.  I arch a brow at him, taking a step closer. “Yes, Commander.”

Satisfied, I nod at him and turn to walk back to my office where my endless paperwork awaits me. Maker’s breath, I’m already exhausted and the morning is not yet half gone.

“Oh, and one more thing, Commander, if I may?”

 I turn back to face the arrogant little prick, crossing my arms over my chest. I notice him quail a little and tuck in behind one of his burlier servants.

Pietr moves a little away from his man enough that he can see me clearly. “Just what d’you think you can offer the Lady Inquisitor after all this is over? “ He takes another step away from his bodyguard and edges closer to me. “Know this, Fereldan dog:  Evelyn is a smart woman. She’ll marry me because she knows I’m her best choice.”

A muscle jumps in my jaw as I fight against the urge to wipe the ground with his face. Instead, I sigh and affect a bored yawn. “Is that the best you’ve got, boy? “ But I do allow myself to grip one of his thin forearms, squeezing it with just enough force to cause pain. “Just pack up this shit and get out of here. I’ll come round in one hour, and if any of it is still here, I’ll order my men to confiscate and burn it!” I release him and fling him away from me.

“Ow! You hurt me, you lout.” Pietr whines, rubbing his forearm one one hand and shooting me a deadly glare. “You haven’t heard the last of this!”

I wave him off. “Whatever.” I turn away and stalk toward my tower with yet another headache beginning over my left brow.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pietr plays his hand and Cullen finally stops being a big dork about his feelings. (You knew that was coming, right?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many sweet comments! I love them. Thank you so much for reading and letting me know what you think. I really appreciate it!
> 
> This was another rough chapter to write. I wrote about three versions before settling on this one because it worked the best.
> 
> 2/17/17
> 
> The art in this chapter is by the lovely and talented [szajnie.](http://szajnie.tumblr.com/)

The bathhouse is quiet, a fact for which I am quite thankful since I don’t feel like chatting with anyone just now, not with a war hammer banging on the left side of my forehead, sending spikes of pain cascading down my neck and into my shoulders and back with every throb.

I strip off my clothes and step into one of the tubs in the center of the room.  I sink down into the hot water, sighing with pleasure as it starts to work upon my stiff and aching muscles.

“Oh, Maker.”

I lean back in the tub and rest my head against the lip, closing my eyes and thinking that maybe I’ll stay like this all night when a nasal voice that pierces through my throbbing head says “Well, well, so he does bathe. I suppose that’s something, then.”

My eyes shoot open, and I twist round to glare at Pietr who stands just inside the door. “What in Andraste’s name are you doing in here?”

“Why, I came to bathe, my dear Commander. I should think that would be obvious, even to such as you.”

“And _you_ damn well know that you could have had a tub sent to your rooms if you wanted a bath. So I ask you again, what do you want?”

“What do I want,” Pietr strolls further into the room and to my dismay, perches on the side of my tub. He drops a hand to trail it in the water and lifts it to carefully examine his manicure. “That is an interesting question, is it not?”

I grit my teeth. “Just spit it out, boy,” I growl. “I’ve no patience for games.”

Then he does something that shocks me at the audacity of it: he reaches out and fingers the hair on my chest, tugging its strands. I knock his hand away and stand up, stepping out of the tub and grabbing my towel to wrap it round my waist.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Pietr remains where he is and smiles up at me. “It’s simple, Commander. You see, it’s like this. I must marry Evelyn to secure my inheritance, but you see, I don’t want her the way you do. I rather prefer a more…masculine form…very much like yours, dear Commander.”

I secure the towel round my waist and cross my arms over my chest. “So why are you telling me this?

“Because: we do not have to be at cross purposes, you and I. Allow me to wed that darling girl of yours, and you’ll see me perhaps once or twice a year, at most. The marriage will have to be consummated, naturally, but after that, other than siring an heir, I’ll be hands off. And you, my manly Fereldan beast, can tup her morning, noon, and night for all I care.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Well, then Commander, I’ll be forced to tell a very disquieting story about how you have brainwashed poor dear Evelyn and made her your sex slave.”

I snort. “And who do you think will believe such nonsense?”

“Oh, I think Evelyn’s father will. He’ll cart her off to a sanitarium after that, Inquisition or not. Shame, that.”

Rage eclipses my reasoning. I snarl and wrap one hand around his thin neck, lifting him easily off his feet. He whimpers, but I’m too far gone to pay him any heed. I slam him up against the nearest wall, pressing against… his throat with one arm. I bare my teeth at his red, gasping face.

“Don’t you ever threaten me and mine, boy” I growl. “It will end badly for you.” I let him go and watch as he sags to the floor, his hand clutching at his throat, coughing as he inhales air into his starved lungs.  

I snatch up my clothing and stalk out the door, forgetting that I’m wearing naught except for a towel round my hips.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After I dress, I head for the main hall where I see Evelyn chatting with Leliana, Josephine, Varric and Dorian. I nod to the others politely and touching her upper arm, I lean close to Evelyn to whisper in her ear. “I need to speak to you immediately. Alone.”

She smiles at me and covers the hand on her arm with one of her own. “Of course, Cullen.”  She turns to the others and makes her excuses before allowing me to lead her toward her rooms.

Once we get upstairs, I pull her into a tight embrace and bury my face in the fragrant fall of her hair. Evelyn ‘s arms come round me, and she sighs into my neck. One hand reaches up to card through my hair, and I melt into her touch.

“I need you tonight,” I whisper into her hair. “I need to bury myself in you.”

At my words, she pries herself free and silently begins backing away from me toward the bed, unhooking the clasps that hold her gown closed and letting it fall in a pool of aquamarine silk at her feet. She beckons me to follow with one crooked finger and, Maker; she isn’t wearing a breast band. Her beautiful breasts bounce gently as she shimmies out of her small clothes before climbing backward onto the bed and kneeling there, naked and beautiful.

I’m instantly standing at attention, painfully tight against my trousers.  I growl from low in my chest as I make quick work of my clothes before joining her on the bed.

I push her down on the bed. She immediately wraps her legs round my hips and pulls me toward her, her breathing already ragged. I watch as her heaving breaths send her breasts jiggling; the sight entrances me, and she lets out a playful little giggle as she leans up to run her hands over my chest and stomach. My breathing hitches as she flicks her fingers over my nipples and drags her hands through the hair that covers my chest and follows the trail it makes down my shuddering abdomen to my aching cock.

“Oh, sweetheart, yes,” I say as she circles me with one hand and starts stroking. Then she curls herself forward and takes me in her mouth. She starts a gentle suction and my eyes about roll back in my head.

Maker, this girl learns fast.  I am a lucky, lucky man.

But I want inside her. Now.  I want to feel her pulse around me as she comes. I flip us so that I am lying on my back and she’s straddling me. I reach a hand to feel her pussy, and yes, it’s soaking wet.

“My darling little harlot,” I growl. “Tell me you want me inside you as much as I want to be there.” I stroke her clit with my thumbs, using the little circular movements that I know drive her wild. She arches her back and keens above me, her breasts thrust out, perky and firm.

“Cullen!” she cries out. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

She looks down at me with smoldering blue eyes, biting her lower lip, her hair a wild cloud of brown curls falling about her head and shoulders as she grips her own breasts, squeezing them in her hands. I bite my own lip, my hands flexing on her hips. Fuck, she’s so sexy that I think I might come just from the sight of her.

“Please fuck me, Commander,” she snarls in a tone I’ve never heard from her before. “Please. Now.”

I smirk. “Your wish is my command,” I say as I pick her up and drop her over my cock.

We both groan at the sensation of me sliding inside her wet heat. Maker, she’s so tight, so hot, so perfect. And then I start to move, slowly thrusting up into her and she begins to grind on me, meeting me thrust for thrust, her walls gripping me, massaging my cock.

I feel myself starting to come undone; I’m moaning in tandem with her wails of pleasure as she reaches her own climax, and that’s all I need.  I come with a howl, spurting gobs of hot semen inside her as if I hadn’t just had a release the night before. Maker, how she drives me mad.

We lay in a heap of tangled limbs for a while, catching our breath and I murmur nonsense into her neck as I hold her, stroking her hair.

After about fifteen minutes, I rise and dampen a cloth from the ewer beside the bed. Returning to her, I gently clean my spend from her thighs, lovingly wiping her delicate lips before pressing a kiss there. After I clean myself off, I climb back into bed and gather her in my arms.

“I love you,” she whispers sleepily.

“I love you, too,” I say, kissing her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips.  The revelation of it shocks me momentarily, but it’s the purest truth that I’ve been running from, since, Maker, since I first saw her on that damned battlefield.  I love this woman.

“I knew it,” she says, her eyes twinkling in the half-light of the room.

“Did you now?” I arch an eyebrow. “And when did you come to this realization, hmm?”

She kisses me. “When you followed me outside of the Herald’s Rest the night I left with Jean-Luc.”

I grimace at the memory and growl under my breath. “Don’t remind me of that Orlesian arse.”

She snickers. “You were so jealous, all glowering eyes beneath forbidding brows and that clenched jaw.” She rubs her hand over my rough jaw. “I thought for sure you’d grind all your teeth down to nubs!”

“That transparent, was I?”

“Indeed you were!” I must have looked a little horrified, because she laughs at me then, and my heart swells at the sound. If all I ever accomplish for the rest of my life is to make this woman laugh with such joy and delight, I’ll consider it time well spent.

“I see.” I sit up and rub my neck. I roll it from side to side, trying to stretch the ache from it.

“Are you all right, Cullen? “ She sits up to study me with a worried frown, reaching out to touch the dark shadows under my eyes.

I sigh, continuing to stretch my neck. “It’s just been a long fucking day.  I’m exhausted, and my head’s been hurting — I tried to soak for a bit, but your little friend interrupted my hot bath.”

“My little friend?” She blinks at me.

“Mm, your betrothed,” I say, leaning my head back and then forward again.

“Why was he even at the bathhouse?”

I stop rubbing my neck and look at her, a nasty grin curving my lips upward.  “Well,” I begin, and then I relate what happened earlier. When I finish, her mouth is agape.

“You know, Dorian said that he had a feeling about Pietr.” She rises from the bed and fetches two glasses, into which she pours some wine. Padding back to the bed, she hands one to me.

I laugh, taking the glass from her. “Well Dorian would know, now wouldn’t he? Thanks for this.” I raise my glass to my lips and take a long drink.

She sits cross-legged beside me on the bed, sipping her own wine. We’re silent for a few minutes, just enjoying the wine and each other’s company.

“What are we going to do about him?” she asks, finally breaking the quiet of the room.

I drain my glass and set it aside, taking hers from her as well. I clasp her hands and hold them in my lap, brushing her knuckles with my thumbs. “We have to speak with your parents first thing in the morning,” I say, drawing my eyebrows together in a scowl. “We can’t let him spin his lies about me — about us.”

She raises a hand to trace them, attempting to smooth them out with her fingertips. “I guessed that. I just wish we didn’t have to…I wish this whole betrothal thing would go away.”

“As do I.“ I heave out a long sigh. “But that’s for tomorrow. For tonight, would you do me a small favor, love?”

“Anything,” she says, caressing my cheek with one hand and carding her fingers through my hair with the other.

“Would you give this tired old ex-Templar a backrub? “

She laughs and hugs me, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Of course, I will, you poor darling man!”

I return her kiss with one of my own, but I linger on her lips, brushing several more kisses against them before pulling away to sprawl out on my stomach on her large bed.

“Thank you,” I say as she straddles my arse and begins to work her magic on my sore muscles. I give myself over to her, letting her work my body over from my neck down to the small of my back.

“Just relax, my poor stressed-out Commander,” she whispers, her heated hands flowing over me, and I forget about Pietr, her parents, the Inquisition, and Corypheus. She and her lovely hands become my entire world. I surrender to the oblivion of sleep with her hands still on my body.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is another chapter put to bed. I will be wrapping this up shortly. I don't know if there will be one or two more chapters. We'll just have to see how it plays out and what the Cullen in my head tells me. XD


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cullen and Evelyn share their relationship with her parents and start planning Pietr's destruction. Dorian, Iron Bull, and Sera lend a hand. Also, more Cullen smut, because I can't seem to stop writing these two having sexy times together. Yep, I am a Cullen Slut, and I'm not even sorry!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos. You've encouraged me to take a fic longer than I ever have before, and it's really gratifying to know that you're enjoying my writing. 
> 
> I love you all! :)

Early the next morning, Evelyn and I sit side by side on the settee in Josephine’s solar while we wait for her parents to join us. I wrap one arm round Evelyn’s slim shoulders, keeping her pressed tightly to my side. She looks at me with big blue eyes and the way her mouth quivers sends a pang straight through my heart.

“It will be fine, love,” I whisper in her ear, keeping my voice steady and calm even as a light coating of cold sweat forms on my back.  Maker’s breath, I haven’t felt this nervous since the day I took my Templar vows. I press a reassuring kiss to her temple, and the feel of her soft skin soothes me, as well.

“Er, Commander, do you think it’s wise to put your relationship on display so openly before even speaking with the Inquisitor’s parents?” Josephine frowns at us, nervously smoothing the ruffles on her dress.

I nuzzle Evelyn’s ear, delighting in the way she shivers at my slightest touch. “I don’t care about that, Ambassador,” I say, my voice muffled by Evelyn’s hair and the press of her flesh against my lips. “We’re together, and I shan’t hide it anymore.”

 “Here they come!” Josephine hisses sharply, standing up to greet the older couple as they walk in. “Good morning my lord and lady. I trust you slept well last night?”

Lord Trevelyan’s hawkish gaze falls immediately on Evelyn and me, a frown settling on his features. “We did, Lady Ambassador, but I must ask what this meeting is in aid of?”

“Please sit and take some tea with us,” Josephine says, immediately pouring out two cups and handing them to the Trevelyans who gingerly sit in the two wing chairs opposite us.

“Evelyn? Is there something you’d like to tell us?” Lord Trevelyan’s expression is pinched as if he just bit into a lemon.

Lady Trevelyan looks just as displeased as her husband, her blue eyes frosty as she regards us. She looks at me as if I am something vile she just stepped in, and this doesn’t help my confidence at all.  I swallow reflexively, my hand going up to smooth my hair. I hope no stray curls have evaded my pomade.

“Um, yes, Father,” Evelyn’s voice is soft but firm. “Pietr only wants to wed me for his inheritance. He threatened to blackmail Cullen if he didn’t allow the marriage to proceed — and he said he would leave us to be together so long as I beget him an heir.”

Lord Trevelyan sighs, looking down at his hands. “Do you think me so stupid that I did not know of Pietr’s preferences and intentions?” He looks up and waves his hands in a dismissive gesture. “But my hand is forced. I can do nothing to void the marriage contract. “

I can feel Evelyn going rigid beside me, feel her tremble with fear, this woman who faced down a dark spawn magister and his archdemon. I squeeze her hand and meet her father’s stony gaze with a stern look of my own.

“My lord,” I say. “I know this is sudden, but you need to know that I love your daughter. I would lay down my life for her. In fact, I will do anything to stop this charade of a union from going forward — and if you know of the boy, you should want the same thing.”

Lord Trevelyan sighs again. “The only way this marriage can be stopped is if Pietr himself calls it off, which he will not do.”

As the words come out of her father’s mouth, a tiny plot starts germinating in my head. I let one corner of my mouth lift in a devious smirk. “Oh, I’ve an idea on how we can ensure that our little lordling does just that,” I say.

Evelyn’s eyes brighten, and she sits up straighter.  I can see the questions in her eyes, but she remains silent, letting me handle her father.

Her father shrugs. “If you can do that, Commander, you’ll earn my highest respect. But,” he narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t think that I will ever approve of you taking up with my girl. She’s meant for better than you.”

Evelyn is about to say something, but I shush her with another squeeze of her hand. “I know that, my lord. I can only hope that over time, you’ll change your mind about me. But know this.” I glare back at him “I’m in Evelyn’s life for as long as she’ll have me, and nothing you say will ever change that.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, Commander,” Lord Trevelyan returns. “My daughter is much too young to make such decisions for herself.”

“Father!” Evelyn cries out. “I’m no longer the little girl you sent off to the Circle!” She raises her marked hand and the anchor flares to life, bathing her face in fade-green light. “Do you see this? _This_ gives me the right to make my own decisions about who I ‘take up with.’”

A rush of pride fills me as I look at her sitting stone-still with outrage, and I want very much to punch her father in his condescending face. How dare he take this patronizing attitude toward this remarkable woman? As if she isn’t saving bloody Thedas from certain destruction!

“Now, now, Evie,” he chides. “We know you’re the figurehead of this organization, but after this mess is over, we’ll have this talk again, assuming Pietr releases you from the marriage contract. “ He rises smoothly to his feet and holds out his hand to help his wife up. “We’re returning to our rooms for the morning. We’ll see you at luncheon.”

As the older Trevelyans leave the room, Josephine turns to us. “Well, that was…something. What are you going to do now?”

I realize that Evelyn is shaking beside me and my chest constricts painfully as I see the tears rolling down her pale cheeks.

“Cullen,” she cries. “They want to take you away from me. They don’t believe I’ve any power at all.”

“Everything will be all right, sweetheart,” I soothe, pulling her into my lap. Her arms immediately come round me, and she tucks her face into the join of my neck and shoulder, sobbing quietly. “Ssh, love. I’m right here, and I’ll not leave your side, no matter what your parents or anyone else say. And bugger them if they don’t realize that they’re talking to the most powerful woman in all of Thedas!”

I look over at Josephine. “For now, we’re retiring to the Inquisitor’s rooms. We’ll talk later,” I say as I get to my feet with my precious burden cradled in my arms.

“Of course, Commander,” says Josephine, patting my shoulder as I walk by on my way out.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It’s later at night, and we’re in the Herald’s Rest, sitting round a table with her entire inner circle. I’m pleasantly buzzed from drink and feeling more relaxed than I have in an Age, despite the situation. I look at Evelyn seated beside me, her head tossed back as she laughs at something Dorian said. Her brown curls are shining with red and gold in the candlelight, and her pale skin is prettily flushed from good company and drink. Maker, how I love her.

“Would you stop making eyes at Evie already?” Startled, I look up to find Dorian leering at me. “It’s entirely too cute, and it’s distracting me from drowning my lonely heart in this swill that you Fereldans call wine.”

I lean back in my seat and shrug, tossing an arm round the back of Evelyn’s chair. When she looks up at me, I give her a wink. “Can’t help it. I’m captivated by her beauty.”

“It’s good to see you finally unwinding, Curly,” Varric says, raising his mug in a toast before knocking it back. “It looks good on you.”

I laugh. “Thanks, Varric.  I think.”  I lean over and press a kiss to my love’s temple and reach for my mug of ale. It’s long past the time when I should have quit drinking, but I don’t really care.  The tavern is warm, the company is fine, and Evelyn is at my side. There is nothing more I could want right now.

“Ugh,” Cassandra grumbles. “I agree with Dorian for once!”

“You have no room to talk, honey,” Varric tells her, nudging her in the side. “Considering what you like to read in your spare time.”

The Seeker swats the Dwarf in the back of the head, and he chokes on his ale. “Keep quiet,” she hisses. “That’s personal!”

“Aw, everyone already knows, dear Seeker!” says Varric, a wicked grin on his face. “And you did _beg_ me to write the next issue of Swords and Shields…” his voice trails off as Cassandra scowls at him.

His expression lightens when Cassandra throws her head back and laughs loudly. “Oh, Varric, I should beat you within an inch of your life, you sleazy little man, but you’re funny, so I’ll let you live…for now.”

“Aw, you know you love me, Seeker!”  He winks at her, and I can’t believe my eyes. Varric bloody _winked_ at Cassandra.

“Don’t press your luck, Dwarf,” she growls, but there’s a hint of a grin on her stern face.

I shake my head. “You’re a braver man than me, mate,” I say, and knock my own mug against his in a toast before taking another swallow.

 “Oi, General Uptight!” Sera gets up from her seat and crawls over the table to sit cross-legged in front of Evelyn and I. “I ‘ave an idea, yeah?” she pauses for effect. “Bees!”

“Bees?”  Evelyn looks from me to Sera and blinks.

“Yeah,” Sera looks at me and cackles as a blush warms my cheeks. “I’ll put bees in Lord Prissy Pants’ drawer. When ‘e opens it to get ‘is clothes out, wham! Bees! Epic fun, yeah?”

“Did Sera do that to you, darling?” Evelyn turns to me, obviously trying to hold back laughter.

 “Well, she didn’t put them in my drawers.” I give Sera a mock glare. “She put them in my training dummy. Imagine my surprise when I went to train one morning. I spent half the day at the healers’ getting the stings tended to.”

“Oh, I remember that!” Josephine bursts out from across the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Commander so perturbed! He came storming into the War Room that afternoon, red-faced and muttering something about damned bees and crazy elves.”

The entire table erupts in uproarious laughter, and even though it’s at my expense, a mellow feeling of belonging envelops me, and I start to laugh, too.

“Yes, well,” I say when the laughter around me dies down. “Just keep them away from me this time, will you? You’ll be giving me a bee-phobia if you do not.”

“Oh, my poor Commander,” Evelyn coos, slipping into my lap, one hand plying my chest through the cloth of my shirt as she rocks her arse against me. “Is there anything I can do to make up for Sera’s bees-prank?”

I fight back a groan as she slips her hand inside the open collar to caress my naked skin, pulling at my chest hair. “Careful, little girl,” I growl. “Keep doing that, and I won’t answer for the consequences.”

“Before you two get any more sickeningly saccharine, I just wanted to tell you to leave that little rat lordling to Bull and I,” Dorian says, fingering one curled end of his mustache. “We’ll give him something to ponder before he goes spreading lies about our Inquisitor and her Commander.”

Evelyn turns in my lap to face Dorian while I regard him with a raised brow. “What did you have in mind?” I ask caressing Evelyn’s arm through her sleeve.

Dorian waves a hand in the air. “Oh, I think it's best that you don’t know the details. Let’s just say that turnabout is fair play, hmm?” He gives Evelyn a sly wink. “I’ll give you the details after, dear girl. Now, _do_ pay attention to your strapping young Templar, there. He looks a might…testy.”

She turns back to me and graces me with a rather devious smirk. “Oh, I’ll take care of this strapping young Templar, all right.” And very deliberately, she rocks her hips, the curve of her ass grinding firmly against my rapidly hardening cock while she rubs both hands over my chest, causing two buttons to come loose.  She takes advantage of the wider gap in the cloth to slide her hands further inside my shirt and runs her fingers over my nipples, lightly flicking them with her nails.

I nearly groan as my cock surges against her arse and my heart starts beating wildly in my chest. The little minx has me where she wants me — Maker’s breath, she’s going to give me a heart attack, for sure. But two can play at this game.

I bring my lips close to the shell of her ear, letting my breath ghost hot into its delicate whorls. “I warned you,” I rumble as she shudders against me. I nibble and suck my way along her jawline and across her cheek until I find her plump red lips. I latch onto her mouth in a fierce kiss, my hands climbing from her hips to palm her breasts as the sounds of the tavern fade away.

She fills my senses with her delicate scent, her hands clawing at my chest, and the sounds of her gasping breaths. My own breathing has roughened into harsh pants and every muscle in my body is coiled with a delicious tension that’s close to pain.

Then, as we break apart and I rest my forehead against hers, just relishing her closeness and trying to calm my breathing, I hear Sera’s fiendish chuckle and the world reasserts itself.

“Woo hoo, atta boy, General Uptight! Give it to ‘er,” Sera crows, raising her mug high in the air, dark delight in her voice.

“For Maker’s sake, get a room, you two!” Dorian chides, and I glance at the Tevinter mage with a raised brow before returning my gaze to the beauty in my lap. “Go off and make like bunny rabbits elsewhere!”

I laugh, but keep my eyes on Evelyn’s. Her pupils are blown wide, and her lips are parted, showing just a hint of her straight white teeth. Her tongue darts out to moisten her bottom lip, and I bend my head forward to suck at it. Her arms go round my chest from inside my shirt, and she’s rubbing my back, sending shivers of pleasure dancing along my spine.

I’m hazily aware of her companions’ eyes on us as well as the eyes of every other person in the tavern, but right now, I don’t give a damn. And believe me, nasty I may be, but I’ve never been _this_ public with my affections outside whorehouses.

I stand abruptly, and Evelyn’s legs go round my waist. “I think it’s time for the Inquisitor and me to retire,” I tersely announce to the group before tucking my prize closer into my embrace and stalking out of the tavern.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Once we’re up in her rooms, I lay her down on the bed and follow, balancing my weight on my arms. I look down at her, taking in the way her breasts move against her blouse with every breath and how her eyes are still dark with lust.

I lower my head to brush kiss after kiss across her lips, each one getting progressively more demanding until I’m sucking on them, laving them with tongue and demanding entrance into her lush mouth. She opens for me, and I groan into her as I slide my tongue inside, reveling in the taste of her, the feel of her soft body beneath mine and her scent.

“Maker’s breath,” I say when I finally release her lips and lean back to look down at her. “You drive me mad, woman, stark, raving lunatic mad. Do you realize how close I was to taking you in that tavern?”

She bites down on her lip and looks at me from beneath lowered lashes. “Why didn’t you?” she asks.

I close my eyes and groan, sagging into her as I drop my head into the crook of her shoulder. “Fuck, woman, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

She nods her head, raising a hand to run it through my hair and down my back. “You drive me crazy, too, Commander,” she says, turning to press a kiss to the side of my face. “You’ve turned an innocent girl into your willing slut, and I love every minute of it.”

I raise my head to smirk at her. “So, my dearest darling slut, you mean to tell me that you wanted me to fuck you in front of your friends? “ I sit up and look round, noting the open doors to her balcony where a breeze from the warm summer night flutters the gauzy curtains.

I rise from the bed and offer her my hand, which she takes and gracefully rises to her feet.

“Strip,” I command, unbuttoning my shirt the rest of the way and shrugging out of it. Next, I move to my belt and the laces of my pants, sighing with relief when my very hard cock springs free. I chuckle when I notice her transfixed gaze on me as I shimmy free of my pants. “Come now, off with those clothes, sweetling. Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Oh, sorry, darling,” she says, nimble fingers working on the buttons and clasps of her own clothing. “You are very distracting, you know.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t be half as distracting as you — not when you have these “ and I take each of her breasts in my hands, lovingly rubbing my thumbs over her nipples and watching with delight as they harden. “And this,” I kneel before her and run my tongue over her folds, parting them with my thumbs and flicking the tip of my tongue at her pearl.

She moans and arches her back, pushing herself against my face. “Oh, Cullen.” 

But I have something very specific in mind for tonight, so I get back to my feet and take her hand in mine. “Come, love,” I say, and I lead her through the balcony doors and out to the stone and marble deck that surrounds her tower rooms.

And there, in the middle of the balcony, I behold my goddess, her beauty turned otherworldly by the blue-tinged light of the twin moons hanging high in the blue-black sky overhead.

“Cullen?”

I gently turn her and back her into the stone railing. I look down at her and smile. “Tonight, my love, everyone in this fucking keep is going to know who you belong to. Do you know why?”

She licks her lips and tosses her head back, nostrils flaring as she looks up at me. “No. Why don’t you tell me, my Commander,” she purrs, wrapping her arms round my neck and pressing herself against me.

It’s my turn to groan as I feel her soft curves brush against me. “Because, dear heart, here we are, out in the open, with just the moons and the stars above, and the whole of Skyhold below,” I say, squeezing a hand between us so that I can brush my fingers against her cunt.

I have more nice words planned in my head, but the feel of her makes me lose my train of thought.  “Maker, you’re wet for me already. I can just,” I pause to position myself at her entrance. “Slide right in.” And I do just that, hilting myself in one move. A groan escapes me from deep in my chest.

She mewls and writhes against me, pressing her breasts against my chest and the delicious feeling of her hard nipples against my sensitive skin and the sensation of her walls surrounding my cock is almost too much for me. But I manage to hold on. I lower my head to take her lips with mine; it’s a sloppy wet kiss, all tongue, and teeth, and she returns the gesture, sucking and biting my lower lip.

When we break away, her eyes are heavy-lidded with passion and she lets out a growl of her own as she hoists herself up on the balustrade with her arms and wraps her legs round my waist, thrusting her hips into me. Then she _undulates_ her hips while her walls tighten round my cock and I bloody lose my mind.

“Fuck,” I rasp, shuddering against her. “So good, you feel so fucking good.”

“Yes, fuck me, Commander,” she hisses as I start thrusting into her, powerful thrusts that jerk her hips upward and send her breasts dancing on her chest. Those words coming from her sweet mouth are another nail in the coffin of my self-control.

“Evelyn, sweet Maker, I-I can’t…I-I’m going to,” and my hips start pistoning wildly, all rhythm lost as my orgasm rapidly approaches.

She raises herself off the balustrade and wraps her arms round my shoulders as she presses kisses all over my face and down my neck. “It’s all right, Cullen,” she whispers, her voice rough. “Let go, darling.” She kisses me on the mouth. “Just let go.”

I force one hand between us to rub at her clit, even as my release overtakes me. I close my eyes and my face scrunches. I’m coming, and there’s naught I can do about that, but damn it, I am going to take her with me.

Mere seconds later, she tosses her head back and screams “Cullen! Cullennnnn!” My name pouring from her lips as she comes swells my chest with male pride. Foolish, I know, but I am naught but a man, after all.

My arms come round her, and I hold her to me as we both come down off of our highs, breathing hard, the night wind drying the sweat off our bodies. I press kisses to her nose, her cheeks, forehead, and lips before simply resting my forehead against hers.

“I love you so much, sweetling,” I murmur. “Thank you.”

She chuckles. “I love you, too, my handsome Commander.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there will be one more chapter in this grand adventure in smut-writing. I couldn't wrap it up in this last one, so one more it will be. Stay tuned for Pietr's come-uppance. Dorian's on it, (I love him) so it will be something grand.
> 
> Once again thank you for reading, commenting, and clicking that kudos button. I really do appreciate it all!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pietr is finally given his just desserts and in which Cullen has a couple of surprises for his love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, friends, this is it. The final chapter in this Cullen-smut-fest. And yes, there's more smut in this chapter! XD
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos on this fic. Thank you for reading and staying with me as I fumbled through trying to write this. It's been a fun ride!

I rise from Evelyn’s bed early the next morning, careful not to wake my sleeping love.  While I would love to linger, I have troop inspections to attend, as well as morning drills to oversee.

So, reluctantly, I shave and get dressed in my armor.  Luckily for me, I’ve been keeping some things in her rooms because I’ve been spending most nights here with her. Perhaps it’s time to move in permanently. She’s been asking me a lot about that lately; it could be time to give in.

Before I make my way downstairs, I look back at the angel still sleeping peacefully in bed and sigh.  It’s too bad that I can’t stay cuddled up to her in that big warm bed. I let out a displeased grunt. Alas, duty calls.

When I open the door to the main hall and step into the cavernous room, I notice two things immediately, both of which have me frowning in puzzlement. The first is that the Inquisitor’s throne is missing from its dais, and the second is that a crowd has gathered round something in the center of the hall. 

As I draw closer to the huddle, I hear the nobles chittering and nattering away about something, mostly in Orlesian, and in their excitement, they are speaking so fast that I haven’t a prayer of understanding one word in ten.

“Make way!” I bark sharply as I march toward the crowd, my armor clanking. “Coming through, make way at once!”

Some of the nobles send annoyed glances my way, but they make room for me willingly enough, and in a minute, I am able to see the cause of the commotion.

“Oh, sweet Maker!” I exclaim, struggling to contain my laughter as I take in the sight before me.

In the center of the crowd of tittering nobles and stunned servants sits the Inquisitor’s throne. And seated in it is the Iron Bull — naked. I mean, he’s got not a stitch on his enormous tattooed body.

Seated in the huge Qunari’s lap is none other than Pietr, and he’s just as naked as Bull. Both men are asleep (at least Pietr is — I’m fairly certain that Bull is only pretending to be sleeping) and the smaller man is snuggled against the other’s chest, a wistful smile on his face.

To top the scene off, Dorian is seated on the ground, between Bull’s splayed thighs, naked as well, with his head cradled against one of them, also feigning sleep. And the man has a large bullwhip cradled to his chest.

I catch the mage’s long-lashed wink and smirk before schooling my expression into a dark scowl. “What in the blazes is the meaning of this?!” I bellow, making sure that my voice carries up and down the large room. “Have you no shame? Get up at once and explain yourselves! And for Andraste’s sake, put some bloody clothes on! This is not a Tevinter Orgy!”

“Whassat?” Pietr mutters, blinking up at me blearily and rubbing his eyes. “Commander? Wh-what’re you d-“ his voice cuts out when Bull shifts under him. I can tell the exact moment when the little shit notices where he is, and a few other things, too because his eyes go wide and all the color drains from his face.

“Good morning, little one,” Bull rumbles, hugging the struggling Pietr closer. “Did you have fun last night?”

Dorian raises a languid bejeweled arm to cup the Marcher’s arse and squeezes it. Hard. “I daresay he did if his moans and cries of ‘Harder, Bull. Fuck me harder,’ and ‘Yesss, Dorian, suck that cock, take it deep’ were any indication.”

Although the mental image of Pietr’s bony body being thoroughly fucked by these two is something I could’ve cheerfully done without, I’m still struggling to contain my laughter. I clear my throat to get the trio’s attention and cross my arms over my chest.  Three pairs of eyes focus on me, two of them looking quite amused while the third looks positively petrified.

“Oh dear,” deadpans Dorian. “We overslept, I think.”

Freeing himself from Bull’s embrace, Pietr staggers to his feet, the color returning to the boy’s face in a bright red flush. He covers himself with both hands and starts to back away in the direction of the doors leading to his rooms.

“Maker, I’m ruined!” he whines, and forgetting about his nakedness, he turns and sprints away, the echoes of Bull and Dorian’s laughter trailing after him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Later that afternoon, Evelyn and I stand with Josephine and Leliana in the courtyard to see the elder Trevelyans and a sulking Pietr off.

Dorian and Bull’s stunt worked, thank the Maker. Pietr humiliated and outed, was forced to renege on the marriage contract, and as a bonus, he insisted that he must leave Skyhold at once, forcing Evelyn’s parents to prepare to depart straight away.

“Write to us,” Lady Trevelyan says as she hugs her daughter. Releasing Evelyn, she glares at me. “Think about your future, I urge you.”

I raise an eyebrow, but merely nod politely and execute a quick bow. “Maker guide your travels, my lady.”

Then it’s Lord Trevelyan’s turn, and he hugs Evelyn tightly. “You must come visit us after the threat is dealt with,” he says. “We love you, darling daughter. Never forget that.”

“Of course, Father. I love you, too.” There are tears in her eyes as she releases her father from her embrace. “Give my love to Max, Justin, and Julia.”

Then Lord Trevelyan turns to me and presents his hand. “Commander, I am in your debt for freeing our daughter from certain misery.”

I take the offered hand in a firm handshake. “I love her,” I say. “That’s the Maker’s own truth, my lord. I will protect Evelyn with my dying breath from anything, including unsuitable fiances.”

The older man’s lips turn up in a faint smile. “I know, son,” he replies. He claps me on the shoulder before turning away and escorting his wife into their waiting carriage where a very petulant Pietr waits.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Life in Skyhold slowly returns to normal following the Trevelyan departure, thank the Maker. My days are filled with training the troops and the usual endless reports, requisitions, and complaints. Evelyn is once again traveling Thedas in search of rifts to close and looking for the key to defeating Corypheus. 

I miss her terribly when she is away, and I worry for her endlessly. By day I am distracted by the myriad tasks before me, but at night, in my lonely bed, my restless mind won’t let me relax. New nightmares populate my dreamscape — horrid visions of Evelyn swallowed by a rift, torn apart by demons, or dying in my arms.

Maker, I need that woman.  And I’m going to show her just how much I need her today. She only just returned to Skyhold yesterday after an extended trip to the Emerald Graves and will have to leave again for Emprise du Lyon in a week. I haven’t much time.

I’ve cleared my schedule for the day and now, I’m waiting for her near the front gates with our horses saddled and ready to ride. And here she comes, my princess, running down the stairs to the lower courtyard, brown curls flying behind her like a sable cape.

When she reaches me, she jumps into arms. “Hi,” she says, blue eyes twinkling, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her plump lips turned up at the corners.

“You’re beautiful,” I blurt, my heart stuttering in my chest. I still can’t believe that she has the power to utterly mesmerize me so.

She laughs and tightens her embrace. “I love you, too,” she returns, kissing my mouth. Then she jumps off me and walks to her horse, checking her saddlebags. “So where are we going, Commander?”

“Well, now, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?” I walk up behind her and run my hands from her shoulders to her waist, delighting in the shiver that runs through her body. I grip her round her slim hips and easily lift her up into the saddle. 

She looks down at me, her lips quirked in that special smile she has only for me. My pulse picks up, and my chest tightens as she reaches out to caress my cheek. I close my eyes and lean into her hand, covering it with one of my own before turning my face to press a kiss into her palm.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter, anyway,” she says, her eyes shining. “I would go anywhere with you that you willed, my Commander.”

Maker, _that._ The way she has opened her heart to me, the trust she places in me, a broken man, a fucking lyrium addict, nearly sends me to my knees. I can hardly credit it. I clear my throat and look away, my eyes moist.

“Come,” I manage in a rough voice. “Daylight’s wasting.” I toss her the reins and return to my own horse.

“Yes, Ser,” she answers with a giggle, as I settle my large frame in the saddle. She considers me for a moment before calling out loudly “Race you to the end of the bridge!” Then she spurs her mount into a gallop, her horse’s hooves clattering down the stone pavers.

“Maker’s breath!” 

I touch my heels to my mount’s flanks and take off after the beautiful, wild woman who has consumed my heart.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After riding for about half an hour, I turn my horse down a narrow path to the right of the main road. Evelyn looks at me, questions in her eyes, but she says nothing as she guides her horse to follow. I chuckle, my own excitement building at the thought of her reaction when we finally arrive at our destination.

Ferns, crystal grace, and blood lotus grow along the edges of the dirt trail, and the trees thicken to form a canopy overhead as we ride deeper into the forest. I laugh when Evelyn insists on stopping to gather some of the blossoms and wait patiently while she carefully picks a sampling of each plant.

“Maker’s breath, I didn’t believe Bull when he told me about this penchant of yours, but now I quite understand.”

“What penchant?” Finished stowing her spoils, she easily swings into the saddle and looks at me, brows raised in question.

I wave to the patch of crystal grace, blood lotus, and embrium that she just finished with.  “He told me that the reason you’re so often delayed returning to Skyhold is that you have to stop and get a cutting from every bloody plant in Thedas.”

She pokes her bottom lip out in a cute pout that makes me want to kiss her senseless. “The apothecary can make use of them,“ she defends. “And I use them to make the oils I use on you, too.”

I throw back my head and laugh. “I know, sweetheart. I’m just teasing.” I nudge my horse forward. “Now, come, we are getting close to our destination.”

The rising humidity in the air and the sounds of rushing water tell me that we are almost there. I move my mount off the trail and motion for Evelyn to ride ahead of me. Her blue eyes widen, and her cheeks are flushed with excitement. My heart races with anticipation.

“It’s just through that copse of trees there,” I say, pointing ahead to the drooping branches that form an archway above the trail. More blood lotus, ferns, crystal grace, and other plants grow thick on the ground where a faint mist rises in the air.

As she passes me, she smiles and blows me a kiss. I pretend to catch it and bring it to my lips, and this makes her giggle. She rides forward slowly, and I guide my horse on the trail to follow.

“Oh, Maker!” she exclaims when she passes under the bowed branches. I come up behind her and pull my horse up at her side.

“Like it?”

“Maker, Cullen, I love it!” Smug happiness fills me at her reaction.

Before us is a deep pond full of crystal clear water that’s fed by a gushing waterfall flowing over the dark granite rocks surrounding the little paradise. Shielded all round, the only way in or out is through the little archway we just passed through.

Evelyn dismounts and wanders toward the four-poster bed that’s set up on a flat, stony area about five feet from the edge of the pond. Forming a canopy over the top and round the sides, the gauzy material is draped round its posts. A few feet from the bed is a table with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“What is this?” she asks, fingering the fabric surrounding the bed.

“It’s called a Palapa, and they’re quite common in Antiva, or so Josephine tells me.” I dismount, grabbing the reins of both animals. “Pour us some wine while I tend to the horses, will you?” I suggest as I hobble the horses and begin to unsaddle them.

Once I’m done, I sit on the edge of the bed beside her and lean in for a kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” I confess after I reluctantly pull away.

She hands me a glass of wine and takes a sip of her own. “So, you did all this? When?”

I chuckle. “While you were away in the Emerald Graves. I came across this little spot during a training hike with the men, and I thought it might be nice to surprise you.” I kiss her again, tasting the wine on her lips combined with her own unique flavor. “Although this isn’t the only surprise I have for you today.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmhmm.” I rise from the bed and drain my glass before setting it down on the table. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I am feeling a bit overheated, and that water looks deliciously cool.” I begin unbuttoning my shirt. “I think it’s time for a swim,” I smirk as I catch her eyes following my movements as I slide it off my shoulders and start unlacing my pants. Maker, I love the way she looks at me with those hungry eyes.

Once I’m naked, I dive into the cool, clear water; the feel of it cooling my hot skin is delicious. I surface a few feet from the edge of the pond and raise a brow at Evelyn who is still dawdling at the edge, fully clothed. “Are you coming, love? “

“Are you sure that no one can see us here?” Her voice is uncertain.

I laugh, and the sound of it echoes round the little enclosure. “No one, I promise. Trust me?”

The tense line of her shoulders relaxes, and she starts shedding her own clothing. Once her glorious body is revealed in total, she jumps into the pond, making a huge splash and sending little waves sloshing to shore.

I feel a tug on my foot and look down to see her grinning at me from underwater. She surfaces beside me, and this begins a game of tag, during which I’m chasing her round the pond, for the most part, her lithe body cutting through the water with far more grace and speed than I can manage with my heavier frame.

She laughs as she easily evades me. “Come, now, Commander,” she teases. “Surely you can do better than that!”

I give her a mock growl and lunge for her, but she slides slippery from my grasp, giggling. Maker, how I love her.

Not since childhood can I recall feeling this light-hearted and carefree. If Varric and my men could see me now, none of them would call me too serious and grim. It’s _her_. She is the one who has given me life beyond duty and the occasional release found in the arms of random women.  

It’s all her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After an hour of play in the water, I leave Evelyn to collect more of her plants while I heave my bulk out of the water and retreat to the sun-warmed stones ringing the pond. I stretch out on a towel, letting the sun and the warm summer wind dry my skin. The play and the journey have made me sleepy, so I close my eyes and let myself drift into a light doze.

“Cullen? Are you sleeping?”

I wake to find myself staring up into a pair of mischievous blue eyes. The little minx is straddling my body, dripping pond water onto my sun-heated flesh, and the combination sends a shiver through me.

“I’m not now,” I rejoin gruffly, aware of the way her heat presses into the skin of my lower belly. My cock twitches. I let out a jaw-cracking yawn, and my hands come up to rest on her hips. “Done gathering your plants, then?”

She giggles and nods. “Yes. Adan and the other alchemists will be pleased with this haul. Plus, I have enough cuttings to start my own garden.” She brings her hands up to rub my chest, and I close my eyes to enjoy the sensation of her hands on me. Every nerve in my body comes alive under her touch, and I let out a small moan.

“Like that, do you?” She shimmies down lower until she’s sitting astride my thighs. “And what if I touch you here?” She watches me from under her long lashes as she wraps her hands round my rapidly stiffening cock and strokes me.

I groan in answer. “Oh, sweetling, you know how I love _that_.”

“And this?” She bends to take me in her mouth, her lips forming an O round my cock as she sucks on it, her tongue sliding up and down its length. I arch into her mouth and let out another loud groan.

“Fuck, yes.” I cup the back of her head, my fingers fisting in her wet curls. Maker, her hot tongue sliding along the underside of my cock, flicking up against the sensitive bundle of nerves under the head and back down feels exquisite. I contemplate letting her finish me in her mouth, but, no. I want inside her.

My arms come round her, and I flip us so that she is lying under me. The breath leaves her in a whoosh, and she stares up at me, lips parted and pupils blown wide. “Cullen?”

I press my cock against her folds as I look down at her, letting her see the naked longing in my eyes. “I’ve missed you,” I growl. “It’s been too damn long since I’ve _had_ you, and that ends _now._ ” I probe her with my fingers and her breathing hitches. “Mmm. So wet already. Is this for me, my little slut?”

“All for you, Commander mine,” she whispers, reaching up to cup my cheek.

“Good,” I grunt.

I rock my hips forward and sheathe myself in her in one thrust. She keens, her head thrashing against the towel and her inner walls tighten round me at once, and I groan. “Fuck. Do you know how much I’ve missed this? How much I’ve missed your tight little pussy round my cock?”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Have you sweetheart? “ I thrust once, pushing deeper and deeper. “Have you thought about me inside you like this while you were away? Thought about me fucking you until you can’t stand?” I lean down and kiss her, ravaging her mouth with mine before I continue, my voice deepening. “Did you touch yourself while you thought about it? Did you, little girl?”

“Cullen, please,” she whines, her legs coming up to wrap round my waist and she presses herself closer, angling her hips so that I can feel the entrance to her womb against the head of my cock. The sensation nearly overwhelms me.

“You’re mine,” I snarl through gritted teeth, driving hard into her again. “Mine, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Cullen, I hear you. Please!” Her eyes plead with mine while her hands caress my chest, twining in the hair there.

“Only I can fuck you like this. Say it.” She moans and mewls, bucking against me, but I still don’t move. “The words, love.  Maker, I need to hear the words.” I lower my head to rest my forehead against hers, my breathing ragged as I wait for her to say them.

“Only you, Cullen. Only ever you.” Those words go straight to my cock, and I groan into her mouth as I kiss her. Rising, I begin thrusting in earnest, my mouth tightening. Nothing can compare to the feel of her soft cunt gripping my dick as I pound into her. Nothing.  If the Maker were to call me to His side right now, I’d die a happy man.

She starts to tremble beneath me, and I know she’s close. I grimace and change the angle of my thrusts, and she comes apart under me, shaking and crying my name over and over again. And her mantra of “Cullen, Cullen, Cullen!” hastens my own end.

“Oh, Evelyn!”

My own orgasm overcomes me, turning me incoherent as I gasp and groan above her, emptying myself into her with stuttering and uncontrolled thrusts. I collapse over her, pressing kisses to the side of her face, her ear, and the side of her neck, unable to speak beyond a few muttered endearments.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

An hour later, we sit at a table covered with a white tablecloth, sharing a supper of pheasant roasted to perfection, new potatoes baked in gravy, and roasted vegetables, courtesy of Skyhold’s chef, and kept warm thanks to a spell from Dorian.

I watch her seated across from me, wild and lovely with her hair a tumble of curls gathered into a loose knot at her nape, tendrils escaping to frame her sweet face.  

“You are so lovely,” I say. “Inside,” I press a hand over my heart, “And outside.” I reach across the table to caress her cheek with a thumb. “I told you I had another surprise for you tonight. Wait right there.”

I feel her eyes on me as I rise from my seat and walk to our saddlebags. I fish round in mine for a second before I pull out a tiny box.

When I return to the table, I come round to her side and kneel on one knee before her, my heart galloping in my chest. I hear her surprised intake of breath and trepidation fills me. I look away, swallowing reflexively and licking my lips to moisten them. The weight of the box feels heavy in my hand.

I’d rehearsed this so many times in my head, but now, in the moment, my throat is dry as a bone and the words are caught there, trapped between intention and fear. What if she says no? What if she doesn’t love me, after all? What if being with a broken ex-Templar lyrium addict is not what she wants?

“Cullen.”

The sound of my name brings my gaze up to meet a pair of soft blue eyes, warm and lambent with love. There is a faint hint of a smile on her rosy red lips.

I clear my throat and take a deep breath.  “My lady — Evelyn,” I begin, taking one of her hands in mine. “Without you, I am nothing — just a shell of a man, tormented by his past and haunted by a future he never thought he could have.” I raise her hand to my lips and press a kiss to the back of it, squeezing it lightly.

“Every day, I thank the Maker for sending you to me. My darling Evelyn, I love you more than my own life. So, tonight I kneel before you and I,” my voice breaks as a tear winds its way down my cheek, “and I ask you: Will you have me, love? Will you marry me?”

For one long awful moment, she remains silent, and my heart stops. She’s going to say no. Of course, she is. Then, her face splits into the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.

“Yes,” she says, her voice strong and sure. “Oh, Cullen, yes, I will!”

“Truly?” I ask, not trusting my ears.

She squeezes my hand. “Yes, you silly man. A thousand times, yes!”

I smile tremulously, and my hands are shaking as I remove the ring from its box. With a little fumbling, I manage to get it round the fourth finger of her left hand, and to my relief, it fits perfectly. I raise her hand and place it over my heart.

“Oh, my love,” I say, a relieved grin on my face. “You’ve made me the happiest man in all of Thedas.”

“And you’ve made me the happiest woman in all Thedas,” she replies, giggling in delight.

 I pull her into my arms and get to my feet, carrying her with me to the bed, where I lay her gently on the sheets before stretching out beside her.

“I am going to make love to you all night,” I tell her solemnly. “Tonight, and every other night that we’re together, until we are no more. This, I promise you, my love and my soon-to-be wife.”

“Yes, Commander,” she says as she wraps her arms round me and draws me closer to her. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I love you, too.” And I proceed to keep my promise.

 

~Fin~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I turned up the corny, sappiness at the end. I couldn't help it. I'm just a corny, sappy gal, what can I say?
> 
>  
> 
> [Palapas](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palapa_\(Mexico\)) are actually a thing. I remember them from my trip to Cancun with my husband. There several around the resort we stayed at, including right outside of our room, which opened onto the beach. I thought it would be fitting to include one.
> 
> Well, I have to say that writing from a first person POV has been interesting. It was challenging and fun. Thanks, again, for reading and commenting. You are all wonderful and I appreciate each and every one of you!


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